Beneath Your Window
by Crookshanks.x
Summary: Hermione finds her life in turmoil and decides that the best move is to run from it all. To her surprise, she's not the only one running from life. DHr fic, Complete.
1. The End

_**Disclaimer:**_ I hereby declare that my name does not even resemble Joanne K. Rowling. In fact, I'm not even English. Heck, I'm not even HUMAN. Okey, scratch that last part...

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_Chapter 1 / The End_

"I ... I don't love you any more."

The words echoed eerily throughout the room and a pair of chocolate eyes widened in horror as the words pounced their way into her ears. She threw her arms protectively over her chest, her mouth hanging slightly open as she panted heavily. The fight had exhausted her. She had thrown and received so many insults and accusations that she was physically exhausted and now he had thrown her the last agonizing blow. He had won, and she knew it.

She felt hot tears threaten to spill, and even if it was in no way logical, she didn't want him to see her hurt. Giving him a glare of pure loathing, she turned on her heel and bounced up the stairs.

"Hermione," he called after her, but she just burst into their bedroom with anger pulsating from every inch of her being.

Her suitcase was resting under their bed and she dragged it out with such force that she nearly tumbled backwards as it came shooting out. She regained her step and threw it forcefully on the bed. He came to a halt in the doorway when she began throwing her clothes into the suitcase. Hermione Granger never threw anything, and least of all her clothes. They were always meticulously folded and carefully placed on top of each other, whether in a suitcase or a wardrobe. But right now they were strewn all over the space of the suitcase, which had been magically enhanced to room more.

"Hermione, I had to say something..." he said in a hushed voice.

She gave him no notice. Instead, she had begun rounding up her books from every corner of the room, and brushed past him to find her belongings from anywhere else in the house.

"When you said you weren't pregnant, I was relieved," he said as he followed closely on her heel. He saw her freeze up for a moment before she strode into living room of their apartment. "I knew deep down... that this isn't right any more."

She closed her eyes in pain for a second and her shaking hands fumbled through the bookshelf in the far corner of the living room. They had tried to get pregnant for four months, but with no luck. Their last attempt had resulted in a negative test only three days prior. She had been heartbroken, he had been relieved. Her heart was throbbing painfully in her chest at the realisation, and for the first time in many months she thanked God for not bringing a child into the whole situation. The whole messy situation.

He continued to follow her around the apartment and back up the stairs as she dumped it all in her suitcase. His excuses rang in her ears, making her want to scream out to make it stop. They were all excuses for why and how, but there were no apologies and no regrets on her behalf. She knew he regretted having to go through this fight, she could tell it made him uncomfortable. But he did not regret any hurt he had caused her. That's when she realised she was not his top priority, and she might not have been for a long time.

"Were there someone else?" she asked suddenly, her voice surprisingly firm.

He was taken aback by her sudden question, and perhaps more so by the coldness in her voice. It was a tone he had not heard her use in a long time, not even towards people she didn't get along with. She was always polite and pleasant when she spoke, always intent on making a good impression no matter who she spoke to. He remained standing with his mouth opening and closing, knowing that the answer would make things even worse.

"Answer me," she hissed in a voice trembling with anger.

"Yes."

Her eyes snapped shut as she felt her insides grow completely cold. She had done nothing but love him ever since the day he had finally kissed her during their 7th year at Hogwarts. All through the war, all through the consequences of war, she had loved him. She had loved him dearly and passionately, and God help her she still did. But when she opened her eyes she realised the man before her wasn't who she had fallen in love with. Her lips perched into a thin line as her thoughts battled intensely in her mind. He wasn't who she had fallen for, but she knew she still loved him and she knew damn well that this had crushed her.

"For how long?" she asked in the same chilly voice that sent chills down his spine.

He watched her carefully, taking in the curls that seemed to have taken on a life of their own at the moment, taking in her closed up expression and finally he met a pair of stony, brown eyes that normally emitted so much enthusiasm and joy for life. He swallowed heavily, knowing he was the one who had put out the light in them.

"You don't want to know the details. Please, don't do this to yourself," he begged, reaching out for her.

The movement towards her, his attempt to sooth her, made her hiss like a wounded stray cat, and he snapped his hand back immediately.

"You are going to tell me right now." She bit as she threw the lid on her suitcase shut.

"6 months."

"Fucking bastard," she spat, her eyes once again welling with tears. "You were shagging someone else before we decided to try to have a baby? You wanted to bring a child into this train wreck of a relationship?!"

He looked down in shame, his hands fidgeting slightly by his side. "That was a big mistake, and I realise that"

"Did you bring her here?" she suddenly asked, her eyes resting on their king size bed.

He swallowed noticeably, and when his eyes met hers she didn't need any verbal answer.

"Oh my God," she spat in disgust.

With that, her final walls crumbled and she let out a heart wrenched sob as she dragged her suitcase off the bed and began descending the stairs with slight difficulty. Her eyes were blurred, her body was trembling with hurt and anger and her suitcase was heavy from all her belongings.

"Hermione, please," he said in a pained voice. "I never meant to hurt you, I..."

"Oh that's rich," she said and gave a distorted laugh, a laugh so bitter it pierced right through his skin. "You never meant to hurt me? You carried on a relationship for 6 months, you had her in our bed and then you agreed to have a child with me."

Her voice was growing steadily louder, and he was flinching from several of her words. He had known this would be difficult, but he hadn't quite predicted how hard it was to know he had caused her this pain.

"I may not love you like a lover any more, but I still love you as a friend," he said quietly. "Please forgive me, Hermione. I need you as a friend."

She looked at him in utter disbelief.

"You have stabbed me so thoroughly in the back that any hope of saving this friendship is so far beyond reach," she said harshly, though not in an attempt to hurt. She was merely telling the truth.

"Please, Hermione. I've known you for practically my entire life!" he begged.

"Right now I can't see you. Or hear you. Or even be remotely near you."

He swallowed again as he watched her standing in the middle of their living room, clutching her suitcase with her slender fingers. He noticed her knuckles were white from her iron grip.

She felt the tears blur her vision again, and when a sudden urge to hex him into next year came over her, she grabbed a fistful of Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.

"Fuck you, Ron."

And with those final words of goodbye, she left behind a relationship she had invested everything in; all of her hopes and dreams, her future, her love, her care, her work and her entire being. And he had taken it all, soaked it in before he threw it on the floor and stomped all over it. Her tears ran freely down her cheeks as she tumbled out of the fireplace with her suitcase in tow.

"Hermione!" someone squeaked in surprise.

She remained rooted to the spot by the fireplace, still clutching her suitcase as if her life depended on it. Ginny sprung up from her couch when she saw Hermione's miserable appearance. Her eyes darted to the suitcase, and they widened when realization hit her hard.

"What happened?" she asked in disbelief as she came darting towards her friend, who was now shivering madly.

Hermione let out a great sob and wondered if her knees would keep her standing for long. She covered her eyes with her free hand, and sobbed repeatedly. Ginny's small arms reached around her and held her firmly, and she whispered soothing words in her ear. When Hermione forced herself to straighten up and open her eyes, she saw Harry standing completely stunned in the doorway.

"He had her in our bed," she said, shock and incredible hurt hitting her mercilessly yet again.

The other two stared at her with their mouths open, looking like someone had just slapped them across the face. Tears welled up in Ginny's eyes, and she turned to Harry with a horror-stricken expression decorating her features.

"Ron's been seeing someone else?" she asked in a hushed, weary voice.

Hermione gave a jerky nod, and the ragged breath that followed emphasized how much it pained her to admit, and the redhead strengthened the hold around her shoulders.

"6 months."

A slight yelp escaped Ginny's lips and she clapped the free hand over her mouth. Hermione knew Ginny had thought, or at least hoped, it had been a one night stand. A one night stand could be excused, or at least somewhat understood and explained, but a conscious choice to continue an adulterous relationship for 6 months was something entirely different.

"But you were trying to..." Ginny's voice trailed off into nothingness as she cast a desperate look at Harry.

The muscles around his mouth was tense, and she could see him grind his teeth even if he was standing several feet away. Hermione knew it was an awkward position. He was both of their friends, and Ginny was Ron's sister. She couldn't expect them to take sides in this, yet she desperately wanted them to. She wanted them to hate him as much as she did right now, but it would not happen. They had other ties to him than she did.

"Yes, we were," she confirmed. "And his affair started before we decided on it."

Her voice was bitter, and she heard it so well herself. It lashed out into the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake.

"But thank God, I'm not pregnant," she hissed. "What the hell would he have done if I was?!"

Before she could stop herself, she had banged her fist onto her suitcase, and the meeting with the handle sent ripples of pain through her. When she looked up, she saw Harry's face contort in anger.

"The son of a bitch," he growled, and before she could reply or even think straight he had turned with a slick motion and vanished with a pop.

Ginny's eyes rested anxiously on the spot her boyfriend had just disappeared from. "Oh my..."

Hermione was not less surprised, to say the least. "Oh god, this is going to complicate everything." She stifled another sob as she looked at Ginny quite apologetically.

"Don't you even dare think it," her friend chastised. "You have done nothing wrong. Merlin, I can't believe that rotten arsehole."

"He's your brother..." Hermione protested, but Ginny shook her head.

"That doesn't change what he did to you."

Hermione sighed, and tried to shut everything out, but it was useless. Thoughts about the years wasted on him kept running through her head, and for the first time she wondered if devoting her life to Ron Weasley has been nothing but a huge mistake.

"Come, sweetie," Ginny suddenly urged. "You can stay in our guest room as long as you need to."

"Are you sure?"

Ginny gave her a stern glance. "Of course. Don't be silly."

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As she tossed the covers off her warm body, she felt unbelievably empty. Day one. Day one of her new life without Ron, without his adorable quirks and his warm hugs. Day one of having to live with betrayal, of having to fight to get through each bloody second of the day. She pulled her clothes on painfully slow, every movement made in slow-motion as if she hoped it would dull the pain. But dulling the pain was no option, it seemed to make her chest tighten, making it harder to breath. She sighed as she met her own gaze in the mirror. Her eyes held none of its usual gleam, even she could see that. All they emitted was sorrow and hurt, and the expression in her eyes together with the unusually pale skin and dark rings below her eyelashes made her seem almost sickly. Not having the strength to keep looking at her dismal appearance any longer, she turned around and wretched the door open, hoping it wouldn't be this hard to get up every day from now on.

"Morning," Ginny said with a cautious smile. She was standing by the kitchen counter waiting for the coffee to finish, and even if the corners of her mouth were pulled upwards, Hermione could tell that she was troubled.

"Morning," she replied quickly, knowing fully well how utterly miserable she looked herself.

The two girls exchanged understanding glances, but neither said another word while the coffee finished and Ginny reached for a plate of sandwiches. She put the sandwiches and two mugs down on the table before pouring the steaming contents of the kettle into the respective mugs. Hermione watched her intently, focusing on each and every detail, afraid to let her mind wander.

When Ginny finally sat down in her chair, the silence was broken by her deep sigh. Hermione gave her a small, reassuring smile, hoping to convey that she wasn't as broken up as she looked. Though she wasn't entirely sure if that was true.

"Where's Harry?" she asked, remembering his rash exit with apprehension.

"He already left for the office."

"I should go, too."

Ginny shook her head, making her red hair bounce against her cheeks. Hermione swallowed heavily at the red reminder, but then realised what the girl was saying.

"I have to go to work, Gin," she protested, taking a sip of the marvellous content that was caffeine.

"Harry already fixed you a day off," she explained, pushing the sandwich plate towards her, "and I've called in sick to stay with you."

Hermione's head snapped up, giving her friend an incredulous glance.

"You did no such thing, Ginevra."

"Oh, come off it, Hermione," Ginny said, laughing quickly at the use of her true first name. "You just ended a 4 year long relationship in the most brutal way imaginable. I'm not letting you stay here all alone."

"You can't just call in sick, they need you at St. Mungo's."

"I can, and I did," Ginny said with a raise of her eyebrows. "What kind of friend would I be if I wasn't here to pick up the pieces after what my darling brother did?"

Hermione scowled at her, but softened quickly when she saw the true concern in the younger Weasley's eyes. To be honest, Ginny was right: it would have been difficult to be alone. So very, truly alone. She held in a sigh, feeling repulsed by her own wallowing. It was incredibly pathetic, this self-indulgent wallowing, but even so, she couldn't help herself. She couldn't help but feel the rawness of being alone, to think about how quickly her life had gone from perfect to horrible.

"Just let me be here for you," Ginny suddenly begged. "I feel so bad."

"You have nothing to feel bad about, you silly git."

Ginny gave a bitter laugh. "I feel like even blood relation is a sin at this point."

"You aren't Ron, and you certainly aren't accountable for _his _choices," Hermione said fiercely, before drawing a hand through her hair looking quite resigned. "And... thank you."

Ginny looked up to meet her gaze, and smiled genuinely. "You're welcome."

They each reached for a sandwich and ate in companionable silence for a while, only glancing at each other now and again as they both contemplated the situation they suddenly found them in. Hermione realised that no matter how angry she was at being betrayed so horribly, she was even more angry at him for putting them all in this situation. Their family and friends were all an intricate web of different relations. Harry had always been the best friend of them both, Ron's sister had eventually become another one of her best friends, his mother felt like a second mother to her in so many ways. Not to mention the rest of the Weasleys, whom she had always loved dearly and saw as a part of her own family. Ron had jeopardized the friendship and relations between so many people, and she realized with a start that it was likely that she would be the losing part in most of these cases.

"Did Harry say anything about what happened last night?" she asked after once again picturing his rash departure.

"He wouldn't tell me anything," Ginny sighed. "Merlin only knows what went down over there."

Hermione paled at the words. "Maybe... maybe you should... go and see if he's, you know... alright?"

"Hermione Granger," Ginny chastised. "For one, my boyfriend would never seriously harm my brother. And secondly, if he did, it is well deserved."

Hermione looked back at the small figure across the table, not missing the waves of anger that emitted from her from time to time. She could sense the fury that seemed to bottle up within her, and the disturbing thoughts about the relationships he had severely challenged returned.

"Gin, he's your brother. You shouldn't hate him because of me."

"He did this all by himself," Ginny replied simply. "Fucking things up is something he does quite well on his own; always been a special talent of his."

Hermione sighed in resignation, but cringed when she realised she was secretly glad. It was what she hand wanted, wasn't it? For her friends to be angry on her behalf. She shook her head slightly and her gaze fell towards the surface of the table. She wanted them to feel for her, to be on her side, but oddly enough she didn't want him to suffer. Sighing a bit, she realised she was still blinded by her all-consuming love for him. A love he didn't deserve, and probably never had deserved.

"Come on," Ginny suddenly said. "Let's not sit here and mope all day."

"I don't know if I feel up to going anywhere," she admitted with a small shrug.

"That's alright," Ginny assured her. "We can order take out and rent a bunch of films."

She smiled at the suggestion, wondering when Ginny had turned so very Muggle. But she bit her tongue, and thanked her for the suggestion instead. Hermione went up to get a quick shower while Ginny went to assemble the films, none of which contained any sappy love stories or overly happy couples. A wise choice, as far as Hermione was concerned. Once they had finished the second film, Harry Apparated straight into the living room. Hermione watched him wearily, noticing that his face looked a bit drawn.

"Rough day?" she asked with a slight grimace, and he replied with a displeased grimace in return.

"It was busy," he admitted as he sunk onto the couch next to her. He leaned his head back and let out a deep breath. "And I was sent on an assignment with Ron"

Hermione's heart gave a leap at the mention of his name, and she scolded herself for reacting in such a traitorous way. She shouldn't feel her heart quicken at the mention of his name, she should be disgusted. And she was disgusted, but it was all such a huge, confusion ball of emotions.

"Did it go okay?" Ginny asked from her seat in the armchair, her eyes darting quickly between Harry and Hermione.

"Not really. It was as awkward as anything I've ever experienced."

Hermione sighed. "You shouldn't be fighting because of me." She felt like she was repeating herself over and over again, continuously trying to persuade them, but also herself in the process.

"I don't even feel like I know him any more," he replied, and reached his arm around her shoulders. "The Ron I know wouldn't do this."

"I hope it won't feel like that forever," she admitted as she leaned onto his shoulder. "He has been our best friends for over 10 years, and even if it feels very far-fetched right now, I want to have him in my life."

"I know," Harry replied softly. "But it's going to take time, especially for you. And you should give yourself that time."

"I will," she promised before sitting up straight again. "Look at me; here I am, stealing your boyfriend."

Ginny chuckled. "Don't be daft."

"Let's put on another film and get that pizza," Hermione said in a cheerful voice, forcing every depressing thought into the back of her mind. Harry and Ginny had no objections, so all three of them curled up in the couch, leaning onto each other in comfortable silence.

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**A/N: **This first chapter is pretty serious, but the rest of the story has a bit more humour and a lighter atmosphere in several chapters. :) Hope you want to stick with me. 


	2. The Decision

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, my boring life does not include owning Harry Potter. 'tis a shame, isn't it?

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_Chapter 2 // The Decision_

It grew more and more clear each day. Every day enforced the thought that had snuck into her head by surprise one morning in her office. Because every day was the same. She would go to work, only to spend the time running and hiding at the slightest whiff of something that looked red. Once, Ginny had found her quivering under her desk with her knees bent and crushed into her chest. It was too much. There were so many places and so many people that triggered memories, reminded her of what she had once had, but had lost so abruptly. She knew she would crumble the moment she had to meet him, and all she could think about was how to postpone it; that first, heart wrenching meeting.

So that day she made her decision. It wasn't a difficult decision to make as she stood behind the curtain in her office, only to notice that the man she had hidden from was her own colleague. Adam had looked at her in confusion, tugging on the curtain with force. At first, she held onto it, still feeling the heart race in her chest, but then she calmed down and laughed unnerved at her tendency to see Ron everywhere. Adam quirked an eyebrow at her as she gave a mad cackle, and he pulled the curtain aside, giving her the chance to step forward.

The moment she had signed the papers he held out to her, she knew she had made her decision. Yes, she definitely had. And she had marched straight into her boss' office, knowing she had worked too hard for too long for him to refuse.

"Are you sure about this?" Ginny asked, dangling her feet as she sat on top of the desk in the guest room. Hermione looked up from the spot on the floor she had eyed as she was lost in thought and gave a short nod.

"I can't stay here," she said in exasperation. She drew her hand through her wild curls and sighed heavily. "You know I appreciate everything you've done, and you two are the best friends I could ask for..."

"You don't have to apologise," Ginny exclaimed quickly, holding her hand up to stop Hermione from continuing. "I just need to know that you know what you're doing."

"I've rented a small place in a tiny village up north," she revealed. "Somewhere I know I'll be left alone, where I can figure this mess out without being afraid of meeting him everywhere I turn."

"So you aren't just running from the problems?"

Hermione swallowed. Okay, so she was sort of running from her problems, but no one actually needed to know that, did they?

"All I know is I need to get away for a while to sort out my thoughts," she replied vaguely. "There are too many reminders and too many confusing relationships to keep going like this."

Ginny eyed her and nodded in understanding.

"I don't know how many Weasley dinners I can be invited to without accepting," Hermione said, giving a bitter smile. "I love your family to bits, but how can I be a part of it now, after everything?"

"Hermione, you know you're a part of the family. That's why they keep inviting you."

"But that's what keeps confusing me. How can I keep those relationships when I can hardly look at Ron?"

"I don't know," Ginny said in resignation, bending her head slightly forward until her hair fell forwards and nearly covered her face.

"These are the things I need to figure out," she said resolutely. "And I need to do that away from here. Somewhere safe where I won't know anyone."

"It makes sense, I suppose," Ginny replied just as they noticed someone towering in the doorway.

"I hear you're leaving," Harry said, still standing in the doorway with a weary look in his eye.

"To get my mind off things," she shrugged. "You know I don't want to leave you guys behind, but I just need some time alone."

He looked severely doubtful at this, and she felt a stab of guilt at leaving him behind. They hadn't been separated for more than half a summer ever since they met in their first year, and since they left Hogwarts they hadn't been separated more than a few days at the most. Sighing at the whole, idiotic situation she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. Soon she felt his hands wrap around her too, and she sighed against his shoulder.

"I'll be back soon, I promise," she said intently as she pulled away. "And I'll write as often as I can."

Harry still said nothing, his large, emerald eyes just pierced into her, making her squirm under their gaze.

"Harry, please," she begged. "I need this. I need to get away, or I'll go crazy."

"I can't say I like this, but I understand why you want to leave."

She squeezed his hand when she saw the melancholic expression on his handsome face, and when he gave the last attempt of making her stay with his large puppy eyes and competently formed pout, she gave a hearty laugh.

"Harry, I'm not leaving forever. It's only a few months," she said with a broad smile, feeling secretly happy that he was so sad to see her leave.

"Damn it, this expression always works on Ginny," he said with a grimace, but gave a cautious smile nonetheless.

"That's cause I just find you too cute to resist," Ginny commented. "Fortunately for her, Hermione has the ability to look past your ravishing beauty, and see straight into your devious intentions."

Hermione chuckled. "It is a special talent of mine."

The other two laughed appreciatively, both of their shoulders relaxing slightly.

"When are you going?" Harry then asked, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"My train leaves in 2 hours," she said, leaning against one of the posters on her bed. "I'm not bringing much, so I should be ready by then."

"If anyone should leave, it's Ron," Harry growled, digging his hands even deeper into his pockets.

"Harry," she chastised, but with a slight smile. "I happen to have control over my own actions, and not Ron's. I can't force anyone else to leave, but I can give myself the opportunity to."

Harry gave a final, resigned sigh and turned to help Hermione pack her things.

Nearly 2 hours later, Harry and Ginny Apparated with her to the train station, both with a gloomy look across their faces. Hermione was touched by their concern, and wrapped them both in a hug as they stood together on the platform.

"Thanks for being so nice about all this," she whispered.

"You're Hermione, of course we would take care of you," Ginny simply said, as if it explained everything, and in a strange way it did.

"Be careful, and come back soon," Harry demanded just as the train pulled into the station, coming to a screeching halt mere feet from them.

"I'll be back before you know it," she promised, "and I'll write"

She gathered her suitcase and her owl in one arm, and used the spare one to wave at the two hunching figures back on the platform. Even if going away was the right thing, she felt a certain sadness at leaving them behind as she made her way through the halls of the train. Soon enough she found an empty compartment, and placed her suitcase on the luggage rack, while she placed her owl carefully in the seat beside her. As the train began moving she could see Ginny and Harry with their arms wrapped around each other, waving at her with rather grim expressions. She waved back, trying to hold back the lump forming in her throat.

It was only for a few months, and it would do her good. She had to repeat it several times to herself, knowing this was one of the hardest things she had ever done. But even so, it was one of the most important things she had ever done. The days at the office where she had ran into hiding several times a day convinced her that she needed time to herself more than anything.

The strange thing was... Hermione was independent, more so than many others, but she had never been truly alone. She had lived with her parents until attending Hogwarts, where she had been inseparable with Ron and Harry, and eventually Ginny. Straight out of Hogwarts they all retreated to Grimmauld Place until the battles had ceased, and once Voldemort had been defeated and life had returned to its more peaceful form, Ron and Hermione had found a flat together.

She was by no means happy to be left alone, but it dawned on her that this was her opportunity to manage on her own for a while. No one to catch her, no one to play safety net. It was her and only her, and in a way it was liberating.

But no matter how liberating it seemed to be, it sure made the train ride boring. She tried looking at the beautiful scenery, but after a while it all seemed to resemble the previous thing and it was as if she had seen it all before. In the end she pulled out the book she had found about the small town, and found herself wrapped up in it until she heard her stop being called.

Moments later the train pulled out of the station, heading even further north, while Hermione stood on the platform peering at her surroundings. Only a handful of others had exited the train along with her, and they were all piling towards the small building that presumably made the station. Hermione took a deep breath before gathering her stuff and went around the building to get in the taxi line. She knew this was a mixed town, and that there were a few wizarding places, but that most of the residents were Muggles. Of course, she had done her research, and knew as much as she could learn from a text book, but it was another thing entirely to be here in person. She got a few weird looks for her owl in the line for the taxis, but she just smiled at the people who stared at her, trying to seem as 'normal' as entirely possible. The ones who did not look surprised at her caged owl, gave her a knowing look and a wink, which she returned with crooked smile.

A little while later, the taxi she occupied was heading down a quiet street, not far from the town center. The small houses were all built in Tudor style, in white concrete, but with half timbering decorating the walls. The dark wood contrasted beautifully with the white stone, and the green plants swirling their merry way up the walls of each house gave an especially romanticised feel. Hermione smiled to herself when she noticed the small gardens in front of each house, and when the taxi stopped in front of number 23, she paid before hastily jumping out of the car in her eagerness to soak up every part of her temporary home.

She grinned to herself as the heat from the sun played on the skin of her neck, and the light shone against the tall, narrow windows of her new home. Still in awe at its simple beauty, she opened the gate slowly and stepped onto the narrow path of stones leading up to the large wooden door. To the left of this narrow path was a hedge, separating her yard and house from her neighbour's, and to its right was a patch of green lawn. She grinned at the sight of a small table and two chairs in the middle of the grass, and almost skipped her way up to the door.

This was more than she had ever expected. It was so peaceful, so incredibly harmonic and beautiful. She felt right at home, feeling that the simple beauty of it complemented her perfectly. Smiling widely, she wandered into the small house, taking in the cute little living room with the large fireplace, the bookshelf and the couch and chair focused around a dark, wooden table. As she turned to her right, a small kitchen came into view, only rooming a small counter and the bare necessity of appliances, as well as a small, square kitchen table by the window with two accompanying chairs.

She sighed happily as she ventured up the stairs, taking the liberty to levitate her suitcase as she was inside and shielded from prying eyes. The short hallway at the top of the stairs revealed two doors on opposite sides of each other. One of them turned out to lead to her bathroom, which was roomy and held both a bathtub and a shower. She smiled contently, before turning around to her bedroom. Since it was the only bedroom of the house, it was large, containing a desk and storage, as well as a beautiful, large mahogany bed. She flopped herself down on it, feeling the smooth fabric of the cover under her fingers. The incredible atmosphere of the house made her worries flutter blissfully far away, and as she began unpacking she knew she had made the right decision to get away for a while. It was such a relief.

The sun hung lower in the sky as she sat outside by the small table in the middle of her lawn with the book from the train propped open in her lap. She sat with her feet curled up underneath her, and she was biting her lip, feeling severely intrigued by the history of the place. While it was small, it had housed several powerful wizards, some of whom she greatly admired for their works in different magical fields. She wasn't entirely surprised. The town was beautiful with scenery that could inspire even the coldest and least motivated of wizards.

It began feeling chilly, and she looked up to see the sun hang low over the mountains, sending its last beams of mercy before the night called. She closed her book gently, and stepped inside, once again revelling in how welcoming the house really was. As she stood by the kitchen window and looked out over her lawn and the road outside, she smiled serenely to herself, wondering when life had decided to show her mercy.

Hermione got up early the following day, eager to explore the town she had read about. She slipped into her favourite jeans and put on a plain, black t-shirt before putting her hair up in a messy bun. It was perfect for just going outside, walking around aimlessly in her new neighbourhood. The heat of august was still present, and she felt the sun warm her pleasantly as she stepped out of the door, once again breath taken by the lovely green scenery, as well as the growing wildlife. It all seemed so natural. Nothing at all like London, and that was a bit liberating.

It amazed her how short a walk there was into the center of the town. There was no need for any bus or taxi, or even Apparition for that matter. Almost all too soon she had found herself facing the busy street, wizards and Muggles living peacefully side by side, though one side was admittedly quite ignorant about the whole situation. She smiled at the thought, and decided that she would have to find out where the wizard stores were in case she would need something. She always kept some of the most common potions ingredients at hand, as well as some herbs and pre made antidotes. Turning around in awe, she watched the old wooden buildings that made up the town center. It was beautiful. Where had this small town hidden all her life?

When she came to the large, open town square the buildings were centred around, she walked around in awe at the seething life of the small town. There seemed to be some kind of market, with loads of wooden stalls put up around the small fountain in the middle of the square. She loved it. Smiling to herself, she paced from stall to stall, greeting their owners cheerfully in return. It hit her within seconds of seeing the small replica of Hogwarts. She wanted to share this with Ron. She wanted more than anything to have him by her side, gripping her waist, laughing at everything she thought was cute or interesting. She wanted everything to be normal. The feeling of hopelessness that she thought she had left behind in London came rushing back within an instant.

"Familiar castle?" the lady behind the small counter said with an inquisitive glance.

"Very much so," Hermione managed to press out with a small smile, and the older lady gave her a knowing wink.

The large square no longer felt inviting and charming, but more smothering and all too crowded. Hermione pushed herself through the crowd, feeling her breathing get heavier and she grew more and more desperate to get away from all the people bumping into her. Just as someone nearly knocked her over, she spotted a green wooden door. She didn't care what was behind it, all she knew was that she needed to get off the crowded street.


	3. The Meeting

**Disclaimer**: I woke up this morning and I thought: "Damn, Joanne... this is one good day". And then I realised my name is Ingeborg and that it's frankly, not that good of a day because I will definitely not be making any money off this hobby-basis fanfic.

**A/N:** Well well. Without spoiling too much, this is _Enter: Malfoy_. I hope the OOCness isn't too bad or annoying, but you know... it's been years, people change. Change is in fact one of the key elements in this entire story...

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_Chapter 3 // __The__ Meeting_

She tumbled through the door finding a scarcely populated room, dimly lit and slightly buzzing with low chatter. A pub. How very fitting for her current mood. She paused in the doorway for a second, but then realised a drink was exactly what she needed. Damn Ron and his stupid, sneaky ways to get into her head. She didn't want him there. She wanted to get over him, put him behind her.

Hermione was so wrapped in thought as she stepped up to the bar that she didn't notice the lower part of a coat flowing onto the slightly dirty stone floor. Within seconds her foot had tangled in the fabric and she shot forwards, only to fall harshly against the counter. Luckily, she had managed to grip onto it, and keep herself standing. Growling at her own clumsiness, she pulled out one of the tall stools and hoisted herself onto it.

"Granger," someone drawled mere inches from her. "Graceful as always."

Her head whipped around in horror and met just the steely grey eyes she had feared. There was no mistaking that voice, and her eyes widened when she realised what it meant. He was _here_, in her town, in _her_ sanctuary. _This can__not be happening_, she cried silently within the frames of her own mind.

"Malfoy," she finally replied. "A pain in the arse as usual."

"Now now, Granger," he said, the oh-so-familiar smirk gracing his features just for her. "Aren't you happy to see your old war-buddy?"

"So happy I'd like to go drown myself in that fountain dedicated to Meveron the Not-so-Tall," she quipped as she watched him tip the glass back towards his lips.

It reminded her painfully of her own need for a drink.

"A firewhiskey, please," she ordered dully, and realised her mistake too late as the barman rose his eyebrow at her.

"What the brightest kid in school is trying to say..." Malfoy interrupted loudly. "Is that she would like a whiskey on the rocks."

Hermione put up an innocent smile, and rolled her eyes at herself. "Silly me. I forgot firewhiskey is just an American phenomenon."

Malfoy turned to look at her, as she shrugged and smiled sweetly at the barman.

"Weird that you should be so caught up in an American phenomenon, considering you've been residing in London for years," he commented dryly when the barman was out of earshot.

She gave him a cold look just as he signalled for another drink for himself.

"What do you know about me, anyway," she said coolly. "You disappeared after the war. None of us ever saw you again."

He quirked his eyebrow at that and she growled.

"Not that I'm complaining," she added fiercely. "It's been quite a treat to not have to deal with your tantrums and your childish displays."

"So everyone's happy."

"Definitely."

"Is that why you're sitting in a small town in the North of England, ordering whiskeys at 5 o'clock in the afternoon?"

She just gave him a scolding look and gripped the drink being pushed into her hand by the barman. She had no reason to tell him anything. So what if he had been on their side in the war? He was still an arrogant, pompous, self-righteous arse.

"Yes," she replied in a biting tone, making it clear that she refused to explain the answer any further.

"Granger, how's this for a way to greet an old... well... enemy?" he asked, clearly becoming rather amused.

"Fine, I'm on holiday," she said vaguely and tipped the glass towards her lips. The alcohol slithered down her throat, leaving a burning trail in its track. Just what she needed.

"You don't go on holiday."

"I am on one now, so that would prove you wrong, wouldn't it?" she replied with a triumphant smirk, not looking in his direction at all.

"You're on holiday alone," he commented, forming it rather more like a question than a statement.

"Seems so."

"Trouble in Weasel-Paradise?"

She forced her eyes to stay locked on the wall across the room. _Do not give anything away_, she told herself hastily. He didn't need to know. Draco Malfoy did not need to know how she had been tossed aside for some tart. She shuddered at the thought of the insults, the taunts. It was too soon for that.

"Everything is quite fine, thank you," she said with a fake smile. "Why are you up here anyway?"

"I live here," he replied simply, drinking the last of his glass.

She turned to look at him in disbelief, taking in the picture of the Draco Malfoy she had known for years. He looked the same, but yet different. His hair was still silver blond, but instead of being slicked back and meticulously kept, it fell into his eyes, and seemed to have grown longer since the last time she saw him. He still wore the pale skin, but his face bore a slight stubble of one who hadn't shaved the past couple of days. It looked out of place on him, and it made him seem less regal. Hermione noticed he looked older, and while they had all grown older, he seemed to look more experienced and distinguished.

"Yeah right," she laughed harshly. "Like you'd ever leave your enormous Manor for anyone or anything. No really, why are you here?"

"I live here," he repeated, as if she had never drawn the statement into question.

"Whatever, Malfoy."

He just shrugged at her obvious denial, drank the last of his drink and put the glass down with a loud thud. As he got up from the barstool, she plucked up the courage to shoot him a last look. He was swinging his cloak over his shoulder and it tousled his hair slightly, making it stick out a bit above his ear. She disguised a smile, wondering why on earth she even had a smile to cover up. To compensate, she scowled angrily at the figure standing mere inches from her.

"Well, I guess I have to run into you sometime later, Granger."

"Let's hope not," she replied icily, and she was certain she saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

"I will definitely try my out most to stay clear," he promised with a smirk.

"Good."

Her trip home was taken in a total haze. A somewhat drunken haze, in fact. But the alcohol didn't affect her quite as much as the sudden ache for Ron to be with her, and definitely didn't overshadow the total shock she felt at finding Malfoy of all people in the local pub. She fixed her eyes on the ground as she walked, not quite as straight as she would have liked, and admitted to herself that life would probably never show her mercy.

She scowled angrily and kicked a small stone with the tip of her shoe, making it bounce several times on the gravel road before it disappeared into the grass on the other side of the road. All she had wanted was a little peace and quiet. Just a little time to figure things out. And how in the name of Merlin could she do that when she would be running into Draco Malfoy every which way? That infuriating git. So alright, they hadn't been that foul to each other during the war, but it didn't change anything. He was still annoying, he still looked down on her, she still wanted to kick him off his pedestal and step over him as he lay there in the mud struggling to get up. He wasn't supposed to be there, not in her safe haven. It was all wrong.

The following morning Hermione received the first visit from Hedwig, the always beautiful, snowy white owl. It was a less pleasurable experience than she had anticipated. She knew she should tell Harry and Ginny about what had happened since she got here, but she found herself writing the normal pleasantries about being fine, and how the weather was fabulous and the town was so charming. Just to be sure, she avoided using any words starting with the letter M. You never knew, right? Harry was too perceptive for his own good. She sent Hedwig away with the letter, before settling down into her couch, wrapping herself in a book.

Hermione found herself being ripped from the comfort zone of her book by a loud tap on the front door. Confused as to who would visit her in a town where she knew no one (well... She liked to pretend she knew no one, anyway), she scrambled to her feet and ran her fingers carefully over her clothes to remove the creases. Plastering a smile on her face, she opened the wooden door and came face to face with a middle-aged woman who smiled cheerfully at her from over a basket.

"Why hello," the older lady beamed. "I'm Miranda Alm. I live right across the street."

Hermione swallowed her surprise and widened her smile just a tad bit more. After all, she was a professional at being nice to people. It was all she ever did. Well, with one exception.

"Oh, so great to meet some neighbours," she said and held out her hand towards Mrs. Alm. "I'm Hermione Granger, so nice to meet you, Mrs. Alm."

The older lady snickered, making her sound much younger than she really was. "Oh don't be silly. Call me Miranda."

"I can do that," Hemione smiled. "Want to come inside?"

Miranda took her up on the offer and stepped inside the house that was probably quite identical to her own. Hermione showed her into the living room, and the older lady started talking at once. The words came too fast for Hermione to even listen. She caught something about the neighbours to her right, about children and a dramatic wedding that they had all attended last year, but she couldn't quite follow.

"Oh," Miranda suddenly exclaimed. "I nearly forgot. Your neighbour to the left is a wizard too."

Hermione's mouth fell open in an instant, and she had troubles making it snap shut again. She had not expected to be talking about anything related to the wizarding world with this sweet lady.

"Don't be so shocked, dear," Miranda chuckled. "I saw the owl this morning. After all, I am a witch myself so I should know what owls flying straight into your living room means."

Hermione relaxed visibly and was suddenly relieved at having met another magical person in the small town. It gave her a sense of security, knowing someone else who kept the same secret as her.

"So, he's a wizard?" she asked conversationally, shifting a bit in her seat.

"Oh yes, a very good one at that, I believe," the other woman winked. "And he's such a nice young lad. Always offering to help out with anything us old ladies should need help with."

Hermione smiled at this. "He sounds really sweet"

"And he's so handsome too. All my friends have tried to set him up with their daughters, but it hasn't worked so far."

Miranda gave a shrilly laugh and shook her head. "Should have known it would never have worked, they should. You can tell from afar that he's a proud man that wouldn't let anyone pick a woman for him."

"Well, I can't wait to meet him," Hermione said in utter sincerity, and wondered quietly if she had met him before. "Do you know if he went to Hogwarts?"

"I do believe he did. I've met very few wizards or witches who haven't attended Hogwarts, well... British wizards of course."

"True," Hermione pondered. She couldn't really remember any handsome, sweet and nice men at Hogwarts. At least not anyone who would help older women with whatever they needed. He must have been before her time.

"Oh dear, I must be going. My son and his wife are coming to visit," the lady next to her suddenly exclaimed before reaching into her basket. "I brought you a house warming gift."

"Thank you," Hermione beamed and took the plate into her hands.

"It's just a pumpkin pie, my dear."

"Thank you so much, I really appreciate it."

"Oh, nonsense," Miranda chuckled before giving a small wave.

Hermione looked after her with a small smile gracing her features. She felt oddly comfortable in this new neighbourhood, and wondered if it was actually possible to live in such an idyllic place. You'd think there would be _something_ wrong with it. Beautiful scenery, beautiful houses, nice neighbours... she couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy at this thought.

She went into the kitchen and cut herself a piece of the pumpkin pie, and grabbing the book on her way out, she opened the door with difficulties. The sun was gracing them with its presence still, and she slipped outside to fall into one of the chairs outside. After a few moments she heard noises from the other side of the hedge and was immediately intrigued, remembering Miranda's words from earlier.

Putting the book down, she got up from the chair without making a sound and slipped over to the tall hedge. It reached almost to her shoulders, and it was just low enough for her to peer over. Her neighbour was bending over what seemed to be a rosebush, or something else of the likes... she never was much of a gardener. She smiled, watching the t-shirt cling to his back as he bent even further down.

"Hey," she tried carefully. "I'm Hermione Granger. Your new neighbour."

To her surprise, he didn't look up immediately. He just gave a short wave, still with his head buried in whatever he was doing.

"Nice to meet you," he said in a muffled voice, and it sounded a bit strained, oddly enough.

"Look, this is going to sound so forward and it's going to sound like some lame attempt to seduce you, but assure you it's not," she said quickly. "But Miranda told me that you always help them out, and one of the feet on my bed is really wobbly, and I'm scared it's going to just cave in one night."

She heard him mutter something, but she couldn't quite catch it.

"I was just wondering if you could help me out, but if you're busy that's alright," she smiled.

The man suddenly straightened up and brushed his hands against each other. He muttered a spell and they cleaned instantly, but Hermione didn't notice. All she could see was the blond hair gleaming in the afternoon sun.

"Sure, Granger," he said, his lips pulling into a mischievous smirk.

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**Another A/N:**

I'm **not** going to be one of those people who scream: "REVIEW OR I'LL NEVER FINISH THIS STORY", cause I primarily write my stories for myself. But reviews are always nice, and I really appreciate any words you'd like to leave behind for me to read. I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed so far. You guys are great!

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	4. The Neighbour

**Disclaimer:** I am disgustingly poor, but I still won't make any money from writing this thing. I won't really gain anything at all. I even have to give back the characters when I'm done -sobs_ -_

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_Chapter 4 // __The__Neighbour_

Oh God_ no_. An ear-piercing scream went off in her head, and she tried to get herself to move but she just wouldn't. He walked along the hedge, opened the gate to his own yard, and came around to open hers. Before she could think at all, he had slipped inside it and strolled past her. Then she came to life, realising what she had actually asked him to do.

"No!" she cried. "No no no no no"

"Relax, bookworm," he shouted back at her as he opened her front door. "It's not like I'll ever be _in_ your bed."

"Malfoy, get back here this instant," she bellowed, running after him through her front door. He just turned and smirked at her.

"No, no. I promised to help. Malfoys' keep to their word."

She nearly cried out in frustration. Malfoy was her bloody neighbour. Life definitely _hated_ her. No, scratch that. Malfoy was going into her bedroom. Life _despised_ her.

"Don't you dare go near that staircase, ferret-boy," she threatened, pulling out her wand within a second.

To her frustration, Malfoy did go near the staircase. He kept getting closer and closer, in fact.

"Don't you dare put your foot on that step!"

He turned and smirked at her before putting his foot down on the first step with a thud. A pressing silence followed before a lot of things happened at once. Malfoy started darting up the stairs as Hermione cast a string of hexes at him, none of them actually hitting him. She was too angry to see straight, and her aim was way off. Instead, she ended up smashing in part of the banister and burning a hole in the wall.

Hermione remained standing at the bottom of the stairs. She was utterly stunned by her own behaviour, and when she saw the damaged banister she cried out in anger. Stupid, stupid, stupid! She huffed and stomped up the stairs and found Malfoy standing by the door waiting for her to show up.

"Git."

"Do you always insult the people who try to help you?" he asked coldly, before turning towards the bed.

She knew he had a point, and snapped her mouth shut into a thin line as he slipped down on the floor to look at the damaged leg of it.

"I tried a _reparo_, but it only fixed parts of it," she explained flatly, keeping her hands crossed over her chest.

"These types of damages require a bit more complicated reparation spells," he replied in a muffled voice.

That would explain why she herself had failed. Household spells had never been her strong suit, even if she could handle most other spells in the blink of an eye.

She stood there watching him, wondering when life had turned so absurd. Why had he even agreed to help her? When she thought about the damaged banister, she realised that was probably the answer to her question: To annoy her endlessly.

After a few minutes he got up and brushed his hands together with a smug look on his face.

"All done," he proclaimed. "Now to my reward."

"Reward?!"

He patted the covers on the bed and gave a suggestive wink, to which she began screaming.

"You utterly disgusting, perverted, arrogant dickhead!" she bellowed. "I'm not some kind of _prostitute_."

She was flailing her arms about, anger threatening to take control of her now.

"Granger, you stupid nitwit. I was _joking_ ," he exclaimed in an exasperated voice.

She calmed down, and felt absolutely sheepish. Embarrassed beyond belief, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the bedroom. He followed her out, and then laughed at the scene.

"Seems I'll be back to fix the banister."

She gave him a dark look, folding her hands over her chest in an irritated manner. It infuriated her even more that he seemed to be amused by the whole thing. He wasn't supposed to be amused, and especially not with her. He was supposed to throw insults, scowl, smirk and be generally rude at any moment possible. Hermione watched him with in apprehension, feeling like this was a Draco Malfoy she didn't know how to handle. The old one, she had learned to deal with, this new one... scared her more than she cared to admit.

He seemed oblivious to her guarded stares as he looked around at her living room, which looked pretty much identical to how it had been when she came. She hadn't been bothered to change much, considering she was only staying temporarily, and she quite liked it as it was already. His eyes rested on her midnight black owl, Rowena , who sat perched on the window ledge above the small, decorative dresser. Suddenly, his eyes darted back to hers, and she thought she saw a faint glimmer of panic, but they were soon back to their normal, steely grey.

"Aren't you going to offer me a cup of coffee and some pie?" he asked, nudging towards the pie still on the table.

"No," she answered before the thought even managed to enter her head. She actually flinched at her own impoliteness, but her eyes widened when he just chuckled. It was a pleasant sound, quite surprising coming from his foul mouth. The very mouth that had always called her mudblood and insulted her on every occasion. Actually, he had insulted all of the people she cared about on every available occasion. Including Ron. Despite herself, the thought made her smile. When she realised what she was doing, she nearly hit herself across the face.

Malfoy was watching her with his head inclined to one side, and when he saw the smile appearing on her face he raised an questioning eyebrow. Hermione quickly snapped out of her thoughts and put up an indifferent expression, not moving a muscle.

"Oh come on, Granger," he whined, crossing his arms over his chest, mimicking her pose. "Stop holding onto all those damn grudges."

"I'm not sitting down to have pie with you, ferret," she spat, his now less patient voice sending unpleasant memories through her mind.

She could still hear him yell _Filthy __Mudblood_ in her face as clear as day, even if it had been years since she had heard it last. She eyed him oddly when she began thinking back; looking for the last time the words had spilled from his lips. Flashes of battle, images of him on their side appeared, and she realised he had not said those exact words since the first day he arrived at the Headquarters. That Draco Malfoy had been a broken 18 year old, stuck in a house with people he had always despised and those very people now held him responsible for their leader's death, hating him even more than they previously had. She had been the only one to approach him, and he had insulted her in every way possible.

Her face softened slightly as she remembered the incident and the days following. She hadn't taken it to heart, not that time. As Harry Potter's best friend, she knew how it was to be afraid, to feel frustrated and broken to the point where nothing seemed to matter anymore. And she knew he was down, so down that self-control was far beyond reach. Hermione had let him scream in her face, let him get it all out, taking it all without giving any back. The days after were particularly strange, now that she thought back on it. He had given her a seat at the table without being asked, held the door open for her when she entered. She didn't know how she could have overlooked it back then, but it was obvious that he had tried to make up for his outburst.

The revelation made her gaze at the present Draco Malfoy, now 4 years older, who looked very different from the broken teenager she had known back then. Their relationship had been strange and impossible to define. They definitely weren't friends, but they could no longer be enemies. Work for the Order forced the two to put certain differences aside and trust each other, at least on work-level. Hermione and Malfoy had never stopped arguing or insulting each other, though... it just seemed like they couldn't give it a rest. None of the two wanted to be the one to quit it and make the drastic change. But the bickering and the arguments were no longer as personal as they used to be. They didn't hit home the way they had before. It was more of a tension release, a superficial battling that neither side took quite as seriously as before. And the word _Mudblood_ had never been uttered.

She suddenly realised Malfoy had moved past her, and she wheeled around watching his back retreat into the kitchen. Infuriated by his nerve, she growled loudly, sounding almost inhuman. He turned and gave her an incredulous look before sitting down by her kitchen table. To say that she was freaked out over the situation was probably an understatement. She remained standing in the doorway, looking at the odd sight before her. This was not the quiet vacation she had envisioned for herself. Sure, the setting was everything she had imagined, but the particular picture of Malfoy piling pie on a white plate with a gold lining before looking out the window with a serene expression was more than just a little unnerving.

"Sit down, Granger."

"No, I won't sit down, Malfoy. And I don't appreciate being commanded around," she retorted coldly, not budging from her place leaned against the wall.

"I haven't met anyone from any side of the war since I left," he admitted, and turned to look at her for the first time since she had appeared in the doorway. "Can't you sit down?"

This rendered Hermione speechless, and the feeling of being on uncertain ground with this new Malfoy increased. She had several insults lined up that she could retort back in an instant, but personal admissions and polite questions penetrated quite easily through her cold wall. She just didn't know how to decline a question almost begging her to sit down, no matter that it was from Malfoy. Maybe especially because it was from Malfoy. He never asked for anything from her, not even the simplest of favours.

"I might have to check you for polyjuice potion or mindbreakers," she commented as she lowered herself slowly into the seat opposite him.

The corner of his mouth pulled upwards into a crooked smile. "I would expect no less."

He accioed two mugs, and with a small twirl of his wand both of them were filled with steaming hot liquid. She eyed him incredulously, remembering quite clearly that his domestic spells had been quite the catastrophe. All she got in reply was a small shrug before he took a sip of the coffee.

"Why did you move here?"

The question tumbled out before she could stop herself, and she tensed waiting for his face to close up, for his mouth to pull into a sneer before handing her a cutting comment in return.

"I didn't want to deal with being big bad Malfoy anymore," he replied calmly. Entirely not what she had expected. "To start almost anew was too big of a temptation."

"But you fought on our side," she commented, her brow furred. "How does that make you the big bad Malfoy?"

"Naive little Granger," Malfoy said, some of the sharpness back in his voice. "The glory would befall Harry Potter. He has been the icon of this war since the day he was born; he is the light everyone followed when times were dark. And the glory might have been shared with you and Weasel, because of the close relationship, but the rest of the Order would probably be mentioned once or twice, and then be put into the back. It's not that the public means to discriminate. It's just that it's natural to focus on the hero, the extraordinary one. It doesn't matter that more people also sacrificed a great deal, because the public doesn't know their story. Not like they know Potter's."

She knew he was right. All members of the Order had received an Order of Merlin, but it was usually The Golden Trio being mentioned in connection to the fall of Voldemort. Come to think of it, she had only seen Draco Malfoy being mentioned a whole of 1 time in the Daily Prophet in context with the war. They had, however, written a piece on his sudden disappearance from the Wizarding World.

"Even so," she argued. "I don't think anyone still thinks you're the heir of all evil."

He gave a small smile at that. "Perhaps so, but - and it pains me to admit this - the war took its toll on me. It wasn't easy fighting against the side you had be taught to believe in. When the war ended I didn't feel strong enough to meet the different reactions, to see everyone on a regular basis in a different context than war."

Hermione could understand that. She had wanted to shut herself up, refuse to meet the world. Ron, Harry and Ginny had been the ones to hold her up, and she realised that Malfoy hadn't had anyone to keep him going.

"To be honest, I pretty much figured that everyone tolerated me because of the circumstances, and that once the war was over I would be on my own again in the chaos that is the aftermath."

She couldn't deny this and he knew it. Avoiding his gaze, she sipped at her coffee, thinking of the months that followed Voldemort's fall. If it hadn't been for Ron she would probably have lost it completely and shut herself in the largest library she could find. The thought made her queasy. When had he stopped being the one who protected her and started to be the one to hurt her?

"You know I'm right," he prodded, trying to catch her eyes.

"Yes, I know you're right," she admitted. "It's not fun to admit, but we probably couldn't have cared less how you dealt."

"Such a warm and welcoming bunch."

She looked up at the sarcastic comment, but to her surprise she found a good humoured sparkle in his eyes, rather than a malicious and resentful glimmer.

"Relax, I never expected anything else. I was never a part of your tight-knit group, for obvious reasons. And frankly, I'm just grateful that you didn't throw me out when I came to your side."

"Even if you never were our friend, we could have been a bit more considerate," she commented, her face scrunched into a worried grimace. "You turned your back on your friends and family, and we just let you hang there."

He actually laughed at this, a tumbling sound that seemed to transform his entire being. "I hope you'll extend SPEW to include me. You could run a charity ball for the benefit of poor friendless Draco Malfoy."

She sent him a vile look.

"Granger, stop worrying so much. If you haven't noticed already, being up here has done me good."

"It certainly has made you a bit spineless."

"Hey!"

She chuckled before she fell silent, and reached for the pie. With the aid of her wand, she cut herself a piece and hovered it onto an empty plate. As she took the first bite, she raised her eyes to rest on Malfoy and the absurdity nearly made her snort with laughter.

"Having pie and coffee with Draco Malfoy, engaging in a civilized conversation. Harry would probably have me put in St. Mungo's."

Instead of laughing at her comment he looked alarmed, and she frowned at the sudden change in his behaviour. He had gone from quite carefree to nervous in a matter of seconds, and it took a few moments before she figured out why.

"I haven't told anyone you're here, if that's what bothers you," she said quietly. "Believe me; I don't care to unleash that beast."

"No, I suppose your darling boyfriend would cause quite a fuss," he replied, trying to seem unaffected, but she had seen him relax at her words.

The mention of her 'darling boyfriend', though, had made her jerk slightly, and he most definitely noticed. She cursed their war-enhanced senses, and wished more than anything that she could disappear into the ground and just remain there. The whole issue with Ron was more humiliating than anything else she had ever experienced. It made her feel so small to be tossed aside like that, to be found not good enough for the man she had adored for years. To be honest, she hoped people would never find out about it. And least of all Malfoy.

He didn't ask about her reaction though, which made her even more certain than anything else that he had changed since she last saw him. It was weird how your world could turn so thoroughly upside down. Ron was the cheating bastard and Malfoy was the civilized neighbour. She had to check of someone had slipped some odd potion or another in her drinks lately.

* * *

**A/N**: YAY, Chapter 4. I'm sure some of you are wondering how the heck I can write this fast, but the thing is I'm not :P I started this story weeks ago, and I'm currently writing on Chapter 8, so the ones I'm putting up now were finished a while ago. I'm starting my summer job on Tuesday, so updates might drop in frequency, but I'll try to keep it up.

Thanks to all of you who took the time to review. I'd like to answer those of you who had any questions for me:

Lady Kilalla: Ron's affair will be a topic later on, but I probably won't go into very detailed aspects of it. It's not exactly the most prominent part of the story, in my opinion.. it's more like a pre-history, if you get what I mean.

Shontara:Well, it's not in my immediate plans to elaborate on Harry's 'alonetime' with Ron, but we'll see. Maybe it'll make a guest appearance ;)


	5. The Check up

**Disclaimer:** These are so pointless. Shouldn't it be obvious that I ... a) Am not JK Rowling (would I be writing on ff . net if I was? No, I would be in my mansion sending the latest book to my publishers so my millions of fans could faint in pure joy)... b) do not make any money off this (who would pay me?!) and c) am not trying to pose as the creator of Harry Potter. Even attempting it is just ridiculous. Not even an Alzheimer patient would believe that.

* * *

Chapter 5 // The Check-Up

Hermione wasn't potions master at the Ministry for nothing. In addition to one year of education in school, she had received extensive guidance from Severus Snape during the time of war. He had taught her as much as he could, and seeing as the student was Hermione, all the knowledge had been soaked up and stored as if it was a treasure. She never did anything half-way, and she had taken on the task of potions brewing with great enthusiasm. Not even the fact that Snape was her mentor put her off it, and in hindsight she was very glad her childish dislike for the man hadn't kept her from taking his offer. She knew he had taught her more than anyone else possibly could, and the fact that she was now highly regarded in the potions environment was partly his doing.

But as explained, Hermione never did anything half-way once she had put her mind to something. And once an idea had entered her mind it would not leave voluntarily. This is why she became mildly obsessed with figuring out whether or not something fishy had been done to alter her life. She knew of a rare potion that had only been used a handful of times throughout history, which altered your perception of the world to the brewers preferences. It was one of the many illegal potions being monitored constantly by the Ministry, and one it would take approximately 6 whole months to brew. The chances of anyone slipping that particular potion into her drink were minuscule, but despite all her knowledge and logic telling her it was ridiculous, she couldn't shake the thoughts.

She spent an entire afternoon buried in the books she had brought, researching the particular potion. When it neared evening she found a spell that would make her completely sure she was not under the influence of it. She did the spell quickly and easily, never having been one to struggle with new additions to her vocabulary of spells. Only afterwards did she check what the reaction was supposed to be, and she frowned when the book told her she would be glowing green tomorrow morning if she was out of danger. She would be glowing green? It sounded like an extremely odd way of controlling, one that she had never encountered, but then again it was a very complex potion, and a potion that hadn't been modernized or modified at all due to its illegal status.

Her eyes flew open the following morning, her mind instantly on the illegal potion she might be inhabiting. She jumped up from her bed, hoping to God or whoever was listening that she was not glowing green. It was completely illogical that she would _want_to be contaminated by an illegal potion, but at least it was an explanation for all the weird changes in character and the odd happenings of her life lately.

"Granger, I've fixed the consequences of your childish tantrum the other –"

She squealed when she realised Malfoy was standing in the doorway, and tried to hide herself behind the wardrobe door, despite the fact that she was fully clothed.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?!" she screeched, coming out from behind her hiding place when she remembered she had nothing to cover up. She threw the wardrobe door shut with a loud thud.

The question remained without an answer, because Malfoy was clutching his stomach laughing harder than she had ever seen him laugh. He was starting to wheeze and snap for breath, still howling with the sound so foreign to her ears.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she snapped, putting her hands to her hips.

He didn't need to answer, because at that very moment she caught a glance of herself in the mirror and yelped in horror. She was emitting a light green glow, looking horribly glow-in-the-dark, except she didn't need any dark to glow. It was not a flattering look, and she found herself chuckling softly at her ghostly appearance. Well, there it was. She hadn't had a perception-altering potion.

"What have you done to yourself?" Malfoy asked in an incredulous voice once his breath had returned.

Hermione merely motioned towards the open book, and he stepped up to it while peering down upon the page. She watched his mouth fall open as his eyes darted across the page. He snorted with laughter as he finished reading, and she scowled evilly at his mocking.

"Shouldn't I stop glowing now that I know, though?" she asked in slight concern.

He looked up, pushing his blonde hair out of his eyes and she quickly noticed the familiar smirk on his lips.

"The obsessive reader Granger didn't read the fine print for once?" he mocked in amusement, and her eyes widened.

"Fine print?" she asked in a small voice.

He motioned her over and pointed at a minuscule font down at the bottom of the page, and she growled in frustration as she bent over and read it.

"24 hours?!"

"Seriously, Granger," he drawled, looking down at her bushy head bowing over the book. "Why did you even do this? This potion hasn't been seen in 50 years and it's monitored so closely by the Ministry - which you should know - that any brewing would be caught almost immediately because of the rare ingredients required."

"I know," she replied haughtily as she straightened up and put her arms protectively over her chest. He was standing way too close for her liking. "I just needed to know. All these changes in my life aren't natural. There are never these kinds of changes. It just can't be real."

"Granger, everyone's lives change dramatically from time to time. We can't always blame it on something specific, or someone specific."

She jerked when he put his hand on her back and steered her out of her bedroom. Since when did Malfoy have the right to steer her out of anything? She turned and looked at him with what she hoped was her best stern look.

"I made coffee," was his only explanation, and she relented. It was just because of her love of coffee, of course.

Once she had sat down by the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in her hand, he began speaking again.

"Life is supposed to change, you know. It's supposed to move forward, have different phases. You're a child, you're a student, you work, you settle down. Life is all about change, and fighting it won't help."

"What if you don't want that change?" she growled. "What if it's something you didn't choose?"

"That it was forced on you doesn't necessarily mean it's a bad change. Maybe you were too blind or too deep into it to see that it wasn't the right place for you to be" he suggested. "Change doesn't have to be bad."

She gave him an indignant look. "I don't like it when you're right."

He gave a surprised chuckle. "Of course you don't. I just never thought you'd actually admit it, though."

"But with all this said, I'm still not convinced about your abrupt change," she announced, and put her mug down. "Walk towards the middle of the floor."

To her never-ending surprise he did as he was told, and watched her with an amused expression and a smile hiding just below the surface. She got up and stood in front of him, throwing every spell she knew for revealing altering potions. The most obvious ones were Polyjuice, mindbreakers, the potions form of Imperius (though with a slightly lighter effect). She also threw in some for rarer cases, and also checked for the actual Imperius and a handful of other curses. When none of them revealed anything out of the ordinary, she sighed heavily and let her wand arm fall to her side.

"I'm afraid you have to settle for the explanation I have already given... war changes you, time changes you. I grew up."

He gave a crooked grin. "Though not all that much." Malfoy twirled his wand around in his fingers, looking thoroughly pleased with himself, which reminded her of the fact that he was in her kitchen... at 8 AM in the morning.

"How did you get in here?" she asked suspiciously. "And what on earth are you even doing here?"

"I know my unlocking charms," he shrugged, leaning back against the counter. "And I'm making coffee and fixing the banister."

"Couldn't you have waited until I woke up and then ask me if it was alright to come over?" she commented with her eyebrow raised. "That's what a normal person would do."

"Oh, but you forget... I'm not a normal person."

She just shook her head at that, knowing that was for certain. Normal was not a word she would use to describe that man.

"I still think you're being a bit overconfident."

"There's no such thing as overconfident."

"Of course there is. When you just walk right into your former enemy's house and expect to get out unhexed, then you're overconfident."

"Well, I'm still here, aren't I?" he commented with a smirk.

"Because of my good will, obviously," she retorted. "If you hadn't made coffee, your face might have looked a bit different now. Covered in bats, for example."

He just shook his head. "Who knew you would be so aggressive, Granger. I do remember when you slapped in me in 3rd year, but I figured it was a onetime thing. Poor Weasel, he must be mutilated by now."

She stiffened again at the mention of Ron, and she felt a faint blush reach into her cheeks. For Christ's sake, she was here to get over it all, and it didn't seem to be working very well. She couldn't even hear his name without having it all crushing back on her. The doubts, the hurt, the humiliation and the hopelessness, all making one glorious rush of negative emotion and self-doubt. She wrapped her arms protectively around herself, trying to think of something else.

"Are you ever going to tell me why you jump like I screamed VOLDEMORT and pointed at an ugly arse with red eyes every time I say the word 'Weasel'?" he commented dryly, watching her hunch even further down onto the table.

"No."

"Thought so."

"You're not going to ask?" she inquired, looking quite pitiful where she sat, her eyes large and apprehensive.

"You'll tell me soon enough," he predicted with a small smile. She nodded in reply, and he took in her look of defeat with a frown. "Look, I have to go. I'm helping Marigold degnoming her garden."

She waved her hand dismissively at him. "Go have fun." He snorted in reply, and gave a small wave before disappearing out of her kitchen and down the pathway leading away from her house. She felt indescribably empty as he left. And as if that wasn't enough... she was locked inside for the day due to her oh-so-healthy green glow.

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**A/N:** Sorry it's a bit short, but it felt natural to cut it there. The next one is a lot longer :)

Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! Love you all :X

1HarryPotterfan: Harry will indeed find out... somewhere along the line :)


	6. The Mistake

**Disclaimer:**

"Hey, guess what!"

"What?"

"I'm not JK Rowling"

"No way?!"

"Way"

* * *

_Chapter 6 // __The__ Mistake_

When she decided to check on Ginny and Harry a few days later, her skin had returned to its quite natural glow, for which she was exceedingly grateful. Why she had ever put that spell on herself when the potion in question was so extremely rare was beyond even her own comprehension. She had to do something with that paranoia of hers. Though... war did that to you. Your reflexes, your senses, your instinct... it all worked on overdrive. It was just a matter of recognizing what was a legitimate concern and what was ridiculous. And she wasn't doing too good in that area, it seemed.

Her fireplace was connected to the floo system, or so she had realised when she found floo powder hidden behind a loose stone at the very bottom of the fireplace. The previous owners had obviously been a wizarding family, and she was instantly grateful for the few handfuls of floo powder. They would be nice for communicating, but also in case of an emergency. Who knew, right?

She closed her hand around the twinkling grey powder, feeling some of it run through her fingers before she threw it into the flames and called for Harry's flat. The peculiar feeling of having your head spin around in the system of floos before finding the right spot made her somewhat queasy and her knees were already hurting. She needed a cellphone. Desperately. Thankfully, Harry's living room and a mane of thick, red hair came into view rather quickly.

"Hey, Gin," she called towards the retreating back.

The young Weasley spun around on her heel and the expression of alarm gave way to a beaming smile. She rushed over and fell down on the floor with almost childlike enthusiasm.

"I didn't know you were connected to the floo," she breathed, smiling from ear to ear.

"Neither did I," Hermione admitted. "I just happened to find some floo powder and I wanted to check in."

"You look good," Ginny stated, inclining her head slightly. "We miss you like crazy, but if it treats you as well as it looks, it's all worth it."

Hermione had to smile at that. "The place is absolutely fantastic. Couldn't have dreamt of anything better."

"So it's a quiet country life?"

"Pretty much."

"Aw, I was kind of hoping for an exciting story from the far north," Ginny commented, straightening her legs and lying down on her stomach in front of Hermione's floating head.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Hermione answered, suddenly feeling a bit out of breath. "Nothing exciting going on." She gave a dry laugh, sounding fake even to her own ears.

"I wish Harry hadn't taken off to that Quidditch game. He would have liked to see you."

"I'll see him soon enough," Hermione assured her. "I know how much Harry loves his Quidditch."

"He went with Ron," the younger girl said so quickly Hermione barely caught her words, but she heard it. And it made her stomach feel heavier than it should have.

"It's okay," she said, pressing a smile to her face. "I'm trying to move on, and so should everyone else."

"Are you sure?"

Ginny looked so concerned it nearly broke Hermione's heart. Her friend shouldn't have to worry for her so much, and maybe if she hadn't left Ginny would be more assured of her well-being.

"I'm absolutely sure," she said with force. "And you, of all people, should let go of the grudges and restore the relationship with your brother."

Ginny looked troubled by this and suddenly flipped over on her back. Her small hands rested on the top of her stomach and she stared straight up into the ceiling.

"But I feel like everyone else are letting go of this too fast. They're already trying to include Ron in everything again, and it feels like they're betraying you. _You_ are the innocent party in this case, and you're the one leaving town, being away from everyone you love."

"I don't want you to lose your relationship with Ron over this. It is something that we will all survive, and I know I will get past this. Maybe not now, but someday I will."

"I just can't," Ginny huffed, pulling herself up on her elbows and turned a bit to face Hermione. "Not right now."

She sighed audibly. "I guess that's alright. It's your decision."

"But we're doing alright, so don't worry about us, Hermione. We just miss you."

"I miss you too." She smiled.

"Oh all the things we're going to do when you get back!" Ginny exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.

"I can't wait. But look... my knees are hurting like crazy. I'll owl you soon," she promised, before giving Ginny a last, reassuring smile.

She pulled out of the fireplace and dusted off her aching knees just as she heard footsteps in the hallway. And she knew who it was. No one else just walked right in. Oh, the nerve he had.

"Hey, Granger," he greeted as he came into view, and he gave a tiny wave.

She was about to retort back when the fireplace behind her gave a sound most unwelcome for the circumstances. Alarm lights flashed in her head, her fingers tingled and adrenaline ran through her stiffening body. She did the only thing she could think of. She leapt onto him and grabbed him by his jacket. Just as the flames roared green, she flung herself behind the couch and pulled an astonished Draco Malfoy with her.

"What the hell are you playing at?" he hissed in a hushed voice, all too close to her ear.

Her curls fell into his face and he sputtered, trying to get them away from his lips. She ignored him and pushed her hands against his chest to remove herself from the all too real body of Draco Malfoy.

"I'm saving your sorry arse, you ungrateful git," she hissed right back, just as her hand slid off his chest and she tumbled forwards again.

He gave a strangled 'hmpf', and desperately tried to untangle himself from her limbs and robes.

"Hermione?"

She stiffened at the sound of Ginny's confused voice, while getting thoroughly annoyed with the squirming man beneath her.

"Lay still, you imbecile," she commanded, making a last panting effort to scramble to her feet.

"Hermione, are you – oh, there you are," Ginny beamed as Hermione rose up behind the couch.

Her hair stood at odd angles, and she had the distinct feeling that her face was thoroughly flushed from the struggle to untangle herself. Laughing nervously she forced herself to take a deep breath.

"Ginny," she said breathlessly. "Anything wrong?"

She looked hastily down on Malfoy, who finally seemed to have understood the issue at hand. He remained perfectly still, his hair falling against the floor, looking oddly like a halo circling his head. How ironic.

"No, I just mirrored your call. I don't know your location, so I won't bother you in the future. Don't worry." She smiled. "What are you doing?" she added, sounding perplexed.

"Oh..." Hermione said, laughing in an abnormally high-pitched voice. "I dropped my quill behind the couch and I can't reach the little bugger."

"I can come through and help," Ginny volunteered, making a move to push herself through, and Hermione panicked immediately.

"NO!" she cried, and ran out from behind the couch. "No need," she explained shrilly. "It's not even my favourite."

"Oh very well, you stubborn git," Ginny laughed, seemingly oblivious to anything being wrong. "Wow, this place is so cute."

"I know, isn't it?" Hermione beamed, taking a quick look around her, and at the same time making sure no part of Malfoy was in plain view. "I absolutely love it here."

"I'm glad," her friend replied genuinely. "I don't want Ron The Arse to keep you back. Perhaps it was a good idea for you to get away for a while."

Hermione's eyes widened in horror when she realised what Ginny was bringing up. She burned bright red, moving discreetly even further away from the horizontal Malfoy, who would be in plain view of she turned her head. All her thoughts focused on not looking at him at all, and she plastered a smile on her burning face.

"Definitely was," she concluded in a sing-song voice. "I don't mean to be rude, but why did you mirror my call?"

"Oh yeah," Ginny laughed. "I forgot _again_. Merlin, I'm such a dolt sometimes. I was going to remind you of the Ministry Charity Dance."

Oh no. The bloody Charity Dance. Hermione swore loudly under her breath, and she thought she heard a stifled chuckle from behind the couch, but she ignored it. Ginny, however, laughed appreciatively.

"Merewood expects you to be there, you know."

"That man will be the death of me..."

"Oh come on, it's not _that_ bad, Hermione."

"It's a Ministry planned event, meaning all my colleagues will be there... it's a _dance_ and I'm Hermione Granger," she stated dryly. "How can it get any worse?"

"First of all... it could have been a costume party, which I know you loath. Second of all... I seem to remember one Hermione Granger transformed into a rather ravishing princess at the last dance she went to."

Ginny winked at the reference to the Yule Ball, and Hermione scowled back.

"Yes and we all remember how well THAT went," she said and caught herself about to elaborate when she remembered who was listening in.

"It went perfectly fine until Ron ruined that day too," Ginny commented dryly before giving a great sigh. "God, I wish there was some way of cutting yourself away from family members."

"Ginevra," Hermione chastised sharply.

"I know, I know," the redhead said, rolling her eyes. "Oy, Harry's coming back. I'll give him your regards. Take care, sweetie."

With a small _pop_ her head had retreated from the fireplace, and Hermione found herself shaking with pent up tension. She collapsed onto the armrest of the couch, drawing her hands shakily over her face. God, how she hated to lie to her friends. And for whom? Draco Malfoy?! No, she supposed it was more for herself. She didn't want them to fuss about him being her neighbour, she just wanted to be left to her own for a while.

She hadn't noticed that Malfoy had gotten to his feet before he stood right before her, peering down on her exasperated figure.

"Close call," he said with a grimace.

She scowled in reply. "Yeah, it was."

"Relax, will you?" he shrugged, and she eyed him angrily. "She didn't even notice. Nothing bad came out of this."

"I don't enjoy lying to my friends, ferret-face," she snapped, both annoyed at having to lie and embarrassed of the things he overheard. "But maybe the principles of friendship is a hard concept for you to understand since you don't have any."

The moment the words had come out of her mouth she knew she had taken it a step too far. She could see his eyes cloud over, and his lips pursed into a thin line. Guilt immediately hammered into her mind, and she clapped her hands over her mouth.

"Oh God, I didn't mean it," she cried as he turned around. She darted up from her seat on the armrest, but reached out too late to catch him.

"Yes, you did," he said flatly before disappearing out the front door.

She cursed herself loudly, and began pacing restlessly on the living room floor. How could she be such an idiot? Malfoy wasn't who he used to be. Insults didn't just peel of him like he was laminated. War had changed him, just like it had changed everyone else. She kicked the side of the couch viciously, trying to blow off steam, feeling angrier than she had in a long while. But this time the anger was directed against herself, and there were no one to take it out on.

She groaned loudly and started picking up stray objects on the table, putting back some of the books she had stacked on the couch. Her mind mulled relentlessly around her words and his expression, as she meticulously cleaned the room. The more she replayed it in her mind, the more she wanted to hit herself repeatedly with something hard, and deciding she needed a distraction, she grabbed the nearest book and fell onto the couch with an enormous sigh.

_While many magical creatures __prefers__ to avoid contact with wizards and witches, the magic owl has a profound and deep bond to the human race. What most wizards do not know, however, is that every wizard has its own owl counterpart that it shares profound bonds of understanding with. It is very likely that one will cross paths with one's owl counterpart at some point in life, due to the extremely strong bond. Whether everyone __is conscious__ about this bond ... __**But maybe the principles of friendship is a hard concept for you to understand... since you don't have any**_

She shook her head violently and threw the book a tad too forcefully onto the wooden table. The loud thud made her jerk from the couch, and as she stood in the middle of the floor breathing more superficially than she usually did. She was such a git. Why did she even care? She huffed at herself and raced out of the house, out onto the narrow pathway. There was a slight drizzle of rain in the air, and the small drops felt refreshing on her heated cheeks.

She walked aimlessly onto the road, dragging herself in the opposite direction of town. When she still felt restless, she broke into a jog, disregarding the rain whipping against her face. Grinding her teeth in annoyance at absolutely _everything_, she forced herself to focus on each tap of her shoes against the wet road. She fell into a meditative state of mind after a while, not really sensing anything around her except the repetitive pounding her her feet meeting the ground. It wasn't until a pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders and stopped her abruptly that she came to a halt and began looking around in confusion.

"Hermione," a scandalized voice said. "You're dripping wet"

She blinked repeatedly until the plump form of Miranda Alm came into view, her round face emitting concern from every feature. Her eyes fell from the older lady's face and onto herself. Her thin hoodie had gone from light to dark gray, and she was soaked to the bone. She scowled at her appearance. Why the heck hadn't she applied a shielding charm?!

"Come here, dear. I have some hot cocoa inside, and you can tell me why you're running around in the rain like a headless chicken," Miranda said softly, while putting her hand around Hermione's shoulders.

She couldn't object. The prospect of hot cocoa was too tempting, and being alone with her stupid thoughts was not an option she was likely to choose right now. She let Miranda's arm guide her further up the road and into her garden, leading up to her house. Hermione hadn't realised she had been that close to her own place.

Once inside, Miranda ushered her into the living room before ordering her to stand straight. She pulled out a thick, but rather small wand and muttered a drying spell, leaving Hermione in dry clothes with her curls once again frizzy.

"Sit down, dear," she ordered. "I'll be back in a jiffy."

Hermione did as she was told, leaning heavily against the large pillow in the corner of the couch. She hadn't quite realised she was exhausted, and still rather cold even with her clothes now dry. This was all just a mess. Just the thing she had been wanting to get away from.

As she sat completely still, wrapped up in her thoughts, a mug of hot chocolate was placed before her on the table and the chair opposite her was soon occupied by her friendly neighbour.

"Hermione..." Miranda began in gentle tones. "Please tell me why you were running in this weather, looking like you had been put under the Imperius."

She gave a weak smile at that, acknowledging how utterly ridiculous she had been... and probably still was, just hiding it well.

"My neighbour... who is a wizard too. The one you told me about..."

"Draco Mason?" the older lady pitched in, nodding her head slowly.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at this, looking perplexed. But of course... he had, after all, wanted to start anew.

"Yes... Ma…Mason and I," she began, stumbling over the foreign name slipping over her tongue. "We've never been the best of friends. Since the first time we met back in our first year, we've pretty much been... enemies."

The older lady looked shocked at this revelation.

"My... I never thought any one of you were even capable of having enemies, never mind feeling that way about each other."

Hermione smiled vaguely at this. It was odd to hear someone say they found it weird that they were enemies. It had always been the opposite. Animosity between them had always been expected.

"We were as different as we could be, to tell you the truth. He's from a pureblood family, you see. He was yet another Slytherin in the long line of Slytherins he comes from," she explained. "I'm muggleborn. Both my parents are dentists. It was never expected that I would be anything but ordinary, but there I was... suddenly the very opposite of ordinary."

The older lady's eyes had widened.

"And to top it all off, I am a Gryffindor," she smiled, feeling oddly proud to proclaim that fact.

"Ah, the famous Slytherin – Gryffindor rivalry," Miranda chuckled. "It was quite prominent even in my days. I am a Hufflepuff myself."

"He was... a cruel child, and if not cruel then at least misguided. He taunted me often, and after a while I reciprocated, and we would bicker endlessly. To be honest, he called me a... a filthy Mudblood... every chance he got."

Hermione found herself stumbling over the insult that used to cause her so much pain, and she met the shocked eyes of Miranda over the table.

"But he hasn't done that in a long time," Hermione hurried to add, and then she watched the older lady intently. "Miranda... can I trust you?"

"Of course you can," she replied with force. "You can tell me anything, and I won't tell a single soul."

Hermione nodded, knowing that her need to talk overshadowed whatever doubt she might have felt.

"You see... I fought in the war. I am a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

Miranda's mouth was now agape. "Hermione _Granger_. Of course. I've read about you!"

"I have always been on the side of the Light. Ever since Harry and I became friends in our first year. Mason wasn't, though. I know I shouldn't be telling you this, but his father is a Death Eater. He was brought up into a certain mould to fit, and he fit it perfectly for a number of years."

Her listener had fallen silent, and didn't seem to need to reply to this, even if she looked weary.

"But after making a grave mistake, he suddenly realised he didn't have it in him. He switched sides, and fought against all his family and everything he had grown up with. We were never friends, not even when we fought alongside each other during the war," she pondered, thinking back to their lives at Grimmauld Place. "But it wasn't the same as it had been. We bickered, but it wasn't with the same venom or the same urge to hurt each other. It was just what we were used to, how we knew to deal with each other. It was just how we worked, and it was a safe thing through all the upheaval."

She saw Miranda nodding encouragingly at this, and at least pretended to understand, even though Hermione doubted anyone could really see the complexity of this relationship.

"After the war, he left. None of us heard a word from him, and to be honest I never spared him much thought. I assumed he had found a way, that he was happy with the things he had always been happy with. That he had changed never crossed my mind, even if war changed all of us," She admitted this with a sad smile. "Then I met him here. And we bickered a bit, and annoyed each other, but it was clearly different. _He_ was clearly different. He spoke to me in a way he never has before. It's not a radical change, I suppose. He still calls me bookworm and Granger, and I still call him ferret-face," She actually chuckled at the thought of this. "But he has told me things he never would have admitted before, and I have responded in ways I never thought I would."

"We were doing alright," she sighed. "We were conversing normally, most of the time. And then I had to ruin it all with a careless comment."

"Ah, you said something in the heat of the moment and it offended him?" her agony-aunt commented.

"Insults used to peel off him. He'd just smirk and retort back instantly. And this time I could actually see him shut down and take the comment to heart," she said, pulling her lips into a sad grimace. "And I can't get it out of my head. Which bothers me, cause we never care."

"Well, obviously you do."

Hermione scowled annoyed at that, and Miranda gave a hearty laugh.

"That things have changed isn't a catastrophe. Actually, it sounds rather healthy," she said, giving Hermione a small wink.

Hermione didn't answer at that. They couldn't understand. They wouldn't understand how much she was in need of normalcy, how much she needed things not to change or to be out of order. She sighed, wishing for a moment she was back in 3rd year, slapping him silly and he would still smirk and act superior.

"If your relationship has indeed changed he'll come around," the older woman said, clearly offering her best advice under the circumstances.

It was not, however, an advice Hermione saw fit in the situation. Malfoy didn't _come around_, and while she had obviously struck a nerve, she didn't want him to come around. It wasn't natural; it wasn't what she was used to.

"Thank you," she said genuinely, knowing Miranda couldn't help that the situation between her and Malfoy was out of her comprehension.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. I am veryvervyervery grateful. Well, my summer job is somewhat killing me, but I've managed to finish Chapter 8 and the plot is progressing. So I'll get there ;)

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	7. The Terms

**Disclaimer: **If you don't understand this by now, you must be a) completely senile or b) an idiot. Bottom line: I do not own, I do not make a profit, and I did this with no intention to steal anything. :P Yes, rub it in... :(

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_Chapter 7 / The Terms_

Hermione was unnerved. So incredibly unnerved. Why did she have to be such a good person? No, seriously. Why did she have a conscience? Why on earth did she care that she had finally shaken Draco Malfoy to the core with an insult? She had even dreamt about it the previous night for christ's sake. This was getting insane... and she was unnerved.

She downed the last bit of her coffee and shuddered at the bitter taste of the grains gathering at the bottom of her cup. Her eyes were resting on an unidentified object outside, not really noticing what it was she was looking at. All she seemed to gather was that the morning was rather grey, and quite possibly cold. She was trying to think of what to do with her day, wondering of she could find some way or another to escape her stupid one-tracked mind. She was going to punish that mind. Oh it was going to be bad. She was going to force herself to look at photographs of Pansy for hours on end. That should do it. She cackled to herself, and then realised she was laughing evilly at the thought of punishing herself. Merlin.

Shaking her head in exasperation at herself, she rose hastily from the chair and put the dishes in the sink. She looked down on them as they sank down into the water, and was suddenly interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Her eyebrows shot up in confusion, and she turned around to peer around the corner. What met her eyes on the other side made her tumble forwards in shock. She rounded the corner in a very ungraceful manner before she straightened up, coughed slightly and ran her hands awkwardly over her shirt.

"Hey, watch it, bucktooth the beaver," he said, not quite hiding a grin.

"I...what?"

"Close your gap, Granger," he commented, rolling his eyes as he grabbed her by the elbow and lead her out onto the pathway outside. "Lots to do and lots to see."

"What the hell happened to you?!" she cried in disbelief. "Did you swallow a bottle of that dodgy Jolly Potion from Fred and George?"

She got no answer to this. Instead, he just continued to drag her along, not slowing his pace down at all.

"I can walk quite nicely on my own, you know," she snapped, trying to wriggle her arm out of his firm grip.

When he suddenly let go of her, she was not at all prepared. She tripped over her own feet and knocked against him, gripping onto his arm to keep steady.

"Remarkable show of walking skill, M'lady."

She stared at him in utter horror. When he continued to grin, she tugged on his arm and forced him to stop.

"Stop being so incredibly happy. It's freaking me out," she proclaimed with a stern glance.

"I don't get it," he commented dimly. "I'm always happy..."

"No, Malfoys are _never_ happy."

"Says who?"

"YOU!" she cried. "You've said it a million times."

"So I have, now that you mentioned it," he said, looking thoughtful. Or was it..fake..thoughtful? She narrowed her eyes.

"I know what you're doing," she accused, folding her arms threateningly over her chest as they walked along the road towards town.

"Oh, do tell," he said in a mock excited whisper.

"You're compensating"

He snorted loudly at this, but his gaze did waver.

"You are," she pressed. "You were insulted by what I said, and now you're acting as if you're high on some very dubious potion fumes."

"I was not insulted," he said indignantly, dragging the 'u' sound out far too much to be believable.

Hermione rose an eyebrow. "You were trained as a spy and you can't even lie to me, bookworm Granger."

He gave her a scolding look.

"Granger, will you just play along for once?" he asked, looking severely annoyed. "Here I was, ready to pretend as if nothing had happened... and you just had to ruin the perfect set up."

"I prefer to talk things through, to sort them out," she informed him, sticking her chin out quite defiantly. When he snorted in reply, she furrowed her brow indignantly.

"What?"

"You prefer to talk things through? Is that why you're up here alone, hiding in a little house out in the country?" he inquired, paying her a small smirk.

"I am on... _holiday_," she spat through pursed lips, ignoring the fact that there was no way Malfoy could have missed the blatantly obvious signs.

"Sure you are," he nodded, looking straight ahead.

"Look, I don't appreciate being patronized and quite frankly –"

"Granger... _relax_," he cried, throwing his hands up in the air. "You're so defensive about every little thing."

"Well, can you blame me?" she asked, keeping her voice down. "Our track record is quite impressive. You used to take every opportunity to insult everything about me. I'm still waiting for it in every sentence you speak."

He turned to look at her at that, slowing his pace down as he kept his eyes locked on her features. His brow furrowed and there was no trace of the malicious sneer or taunting smirk on his lips.

"No, I guess I can't blame you," he replied quietly, taking his eyes off her with a jerk of his head.

She sighed, noticing they were nearing town. They didn't speak as their feet moved almost in sync against the ground. Malfoy nodded to an older couple that passed and Hermione couldn't help but noticed how they lit up at the sight of him. She gave a soft smile as Malfoy and the couple exchanged a few sentences, and when they held out their hands for her she gripped them with enthusiasm.

"So... Mason," she said, trying to hide her grin as they turned to walk again.

His head snapped towards her at this.

"How did you know?" he asked, looking a bit sheepish.

"Miranda."

"I should have known she would take a liking to you," he growled.

"I'm very likable." She nodded, and smirked when he rose his eyebrow at her. "Well, I am!"

"I couldn't very well go around with the Malfoy name, though, could I?"

"Not if you wanted to hide, no," she replied smartly.

"I'm not the only one hiding, in case you've forgotten."

She sighed at that, no longer having the energy to deny it. The truth of the matter was that she _was_ hiding, and he knew it, thus the more she denied it, the stupider she would look. She momentarily forgot about the frightening turn of conversation when the town center came into view. The market stalls were set up yet again, the town square once again brimming with people.

"I thought I'd show you some of the Wizard's shops," he said over the loud chatter engulfing them. She merely nodded, still feeling a bit unnerved by the unresolved issue between them.

It was soon forgotten though, as he lead her into the muggle bookshop. She stopped by the first shelf and grinned madly.

"Granger, wizard shop, remember?"

He stood further in the store, tapping his foot rather impatiently as her eyes skimmed each title with a hungry expression.

"Oh, for crying out loud..." He came up and grabbed her by the arm, and she followed reluctantly through the secret passageway by the second shelf.

Her worries were soon forgotten as he let her spent an entire hour inside the bookstore, browsing every part she could get her hands on. His loud complaining was thoroughly ignored as she got lost in the many titles. When he finally decided it was time to drag her out of there by force, she hadn't even bought a single book.

"I don't need to buy them just because I want them," she told him. "I can't just buy anything I'd like. Sometimes most of us have to want something and then save up for it and work for it."

He just huffed in reply to that, not missing the hint of how spoiled he was. She smiled sweetly, just as he dragged her down the alley between two houses. Her eyes widening in surprise, she shrieked indignantly.

"sssh," he snapped, yanking her along.

"Where are you taking me? I demand you to answer."

He laughed harshly. "Oh you do, do you?"

Before she could reply, he had stopped and grabbed her shoulders to turn her towards the wall on their left side. She peered curiously at the wall and an old wooden door began materializing under her gaze. When it had appeared fully, he held out his hand urging her to go first. She looked at him with slight uncertainty, but then she put her hand on the door and pushed it open.

What met her inside almost made her heart stop. It was a huge room, so high under the ceiling that she had to crane her neck and every wall was covered in potions and potion ingredients. It had to be the largest collection of potion ingredients for miles. She wheeled around and stared at him with large eyes, her lips parted in an awed expression.

"I thought you'd like this," he said faintly, giving a small smile. "Severus nearly fainted when he came here first time around."

"It's _amazing_," she breathed, tumbling around in a circle as she tried to take in as much as possible.

He followed her around, taking in her enthusiasm and for once unguarded presentation. She was far to busy squealing in delight at every rare ingredient to put up the usual front they always wore around each other. Perhaps that's what made her say what she had wanted to say all evening.

"Look... Malfoy. I really am sorry."

He turned from the isle of different dreaming potions with an unreadable look on his face. This made her slightly unnerved, but she just clutched the glass of salamander eyes and met his gaze with determination.

"And I was serious when I said I didn't mean it."

His eyes narrowed at this, and his expression darkened dangerously.

"Do I look like an idiot to you, Granger?"

She sighed. "As much as that cue for an insult was almost too good to pass up...no, you don't."

"Then stop telling me things we both know aren't true."

"The reason I could never mean it is that...well... I've... kind of... begun to look at you as my...friend."

She had stammered through the declaration, feeling a bit exposed at revealing this fact. It wasn't something she had really been aware of until very recently. She had been so concerned about what she'd said, and she couldn't at all fathom why she cared so deeply about whether or not it insulted him. But when he came to drag her out of the house to go shopping she realised spending time with him had become something normal, and something she – God forbid – quite enjoyed.

She had expected him to howl with laughter and call her a boring excuse for a Gryffindor, swearing he wouldn't even befriend her if she was a Miss Witch candidate. She had, however, not expected him to keep a grave expression, his eyebrow slightly quirkec in surprise.

"If that is how you truly feel you would have told me about Weasley."

His words made her jaw drop as she stared at him in disbelief. He just shrugged and turned his back on her as he once again surveyed the shelves.

"I can't believe you're trying to pressure me into telling you of all people about my relationship with Ron," she snapped, tightening her hold around the glass of salamander eyes.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," his muffled voice said as he had moved even further away. "If you considered me your friend you would have told me without second guessing it, and you certainly wouldn't have been outraged at the thought of telling 'me of all people'."

That shut her up. And things rarely shut Hermione Granger up. In fact, she couldn't really remember the last time that happened, if it ever had. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment, knowing fully well that he made complete sense. She felt the eyes of the shop clerk at the back of her neck and fought back the strange lump in her throat.

"Look, I didn't bring you here to ruin it all for you. Let's finish up here and take the discussion later," he suddenly said, walking along the longest wall of the room.

She swallowed again and nodded in agreement, forcing the thoughts to the back of her mind as she turned her concentration to the shelves and shelves of potions.

It had to be at least an hour later that the two of them watched the door disappear, leaving nothing but concrete walls and a dark alley way. Hermione carried her newly received potions as they snuck out of the narrow passage, carefully making sure that no one saw them come out of there. It would look rather odd, after all.

"Let's go somewhere they have firewhiskey," she suggested as she tried to get a better grip on her heavy bags.

"Sure, but it's rather shadier than you're used to," he warned as he began crossing the town square.

"After all the downright crazy places I had to meet you at during the war, shady is the least of my worries," she replied dryly. "I still have a scar after that guy bit me. Thank God he wasn't actually a werewolf, just mentally... challenged."

He laughed loudly at that, his eyes glimmering oddly.

"That was the best night I've had in my life."

She glared at him as they walked side by side. "Oh, I am so glad you take pleasure in my misery."

"Oh, come on. You have to admit it was pretty funny."

"How is it funny?! He said he was a werewolf and he bit me. I was scared out of my mind," she cried indignantly.

"But he wasn't even transformed. And he was wearing antlers from a muggle costume shop. In fact, he was muggle. You were jumping around screaming, completely forgetting that we should in no way draw attention to ourselves," he reminded her, his mouth fighting to hide his amused grin. "And when I was trying to lead you out of there to get you to St. Mungo's you kept screaming for me to get away from you because you were 'befouled', 'dangerous' and a 'creature'."

The corner of her mouth twitched involuntarily at the memory just as he stopped before a large wooden building. "Okay, so I was a bit hysteric..."

He snorted at her slight understatement and gave her an amused glance. She stared back, and for a few seconds they just looked at each other before he pointed at two barrels standing by the corner of the house. He stepped over and tapped one of them as she followed right behind him, and he seemed to mutter slightly under his breath. Within seconds a narrow staircase appeared between the two barrels, leading down into the ground. He signaled for her to go first, and she descended the stairs, careful not to trip and make a complete fool of herself.

He had been right, it was rather shadier than what she would normally prefer, but in its own way it was rather charming. Smoke hung heavily in the air, the smell of firewhiskey rather overwhelming and she swore she could see some sort of magical creature scurrying into a corner. Its occupants were also somewhat strange, and it reminded her suspiciously of the Hog's Head and half expected to find Mundungus Fletcher seated in a shadowed spot. She looked around curiously as she maneuvered herself between more or less empty tables before reaching the bar. She preferred sitting there. Seating themselves by a table would be too datelike for her liking.

She flung herself up on the tall stool and watched as he followed her lead. For the first time it hit her how weird it was to see him in muggle clothing, and something as casual as jeans nonetheless. She had him pegged for the Armani suit type, though she supposed this small town wasn't exactly the right environment for such fashion proclamations.

"Two firewhiskeys," he ordered, not taking notice of her watchful eye.

She just looked at him in silence, watching the muscles in his neck flex as he turned his head to survey the crowd. It soon became clear that he was not going to be the one to bring the subject back in the open, and she looked down onto her hands, swallowing whatever pride she might have left.

"It's not you."

He turned towards her, looking severely confused. The two glasses of firewhiskey were placed in front of them, but neither seemed to notice.

"It's not that I don't want to tell you, it's just that I don't want to talk about Ron at all," she explained.

"And yet you claim you like to talk things through," he retorted, sliding his finger along the side of his glass.

"Not in this case," she said with a grimace. "I quite prefer getting some distance from it. Recovering."

"My point is just that if you really saw me as a friend you wouldn't be so bothered by the prospect of telling me."

"But I've hardly told anyone," she protested, feeling frustrated at his unwillingness to understand her point of view.

"You've told Potter and Mini Weasley."

"Well, I kind of had to. Where else would I go?"

He sighed, bringing the glass up to his lips. She watched his lips wrap around the edge as he took a sip, mesmerized by the little movement.

"My point is that you don't trust me, and if you don't I can hardly be your friend. If you were sitting here with Longbottom you wouldn't think twice about getting it off your chest. Or Luna Lovegood, for that matter."

She flushed slightly in anger and embarrassment. Chances were she wouldn't have thought too hard about telling Neville or Luna. She knew she could count on their advice, their ability to listen without gloating or laughing. While she definitely _wanted_ to believe the same from Malfoy, she couldn't be entirely sure that his reaction would be the same.

"I just don't know where you stand anymore," she admitted, moving her glass around in small circles and watched the liquid swirl. "I guess I'm just scared you'll find it funny or gloat about it, and I can't handle that right now."

"If that's what you think, you definitely don't know me, Granger," he commented, giving her a long look out of the corner of his eye before taking another sip.

"I only know what you've chosen to show me,€" she retorted. "All I've ever seen is taunts and ridicule from you. How am I supposed to know there's more?"

"I thought I had shown you that I'm more during the war, and during the time you've been here", he said, his voice showing no emotion despite his words. "I haven't been that little prat you knew at Hogwarts for years."

"We still bicker all the time".

"That's just how we work," he said after a moment's pause. "It's how we interact, you and I. You call me names too, but that doesn't make you a bad person. And it doesn't mean you wouldn't listen to me if I had any problems."

"It's not... I just...I still see you as my friend."

She was becoming quite frustrated with this whole stupid situation. Draco Malfoy was a git.

"If you did, you would trust me."

* * *

**A/N:** So there it is. This chapter is not one of my personal favourites, but I promise the two next ones are better (at least in my opinion they are).

And to answer pstibbons... Draco is in a way angry at himself, I suppose, but more angry at the way she perceives him. He doesn't like that she seems him like some kind of friendless loser, because as will be revisited later.. he's infact not as friendless as she assumes.


	8. The Talk

**Disclaimer:** duduuudurutu. Latest news: The author of _Beneath Your Window_ turns out to be JK Rowling, and is pulling in tons of cash from the piece posted on fanfiction . net. And it is truly... oh wait. My bad.

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_Chapter 8 / The Talk_

Why did he always have to be right? He was an infuriating, arrogant moron; Someone she would rather have been dropped in a crate of blastended skrewts than befriend. Yet here she was, finding herself in a position where his friendship seemed to matter more than most other things in her life. And he was right. That's what infuriated her more than anything.

It was only a few hours ago that they entered their respective houses after their drink at the Wizard's Pub, and the conversation they had endured was still driving her crazy. It was driving her mad that she couldn't even make _herself_ believe her own argument. And she knew he was absolutely right. If he was her friend, she should trust him. She should be able to tell him why she had come here in the first place, why her life was such a mess.

But the problem was that she didn't want to. Their competitiveness and their urge to always be better than each other still clung to her mind like a damp cloth. If she admitted this to him, it was some sort of defeat. She had failed. She had failed in her relationship, and it was a victory to him. It was always a victory for him to see her go down. At least that's how it had been, and she couldn't quite shake the thought.

She supposed it was yet another one of those things in change. Another one of those things she didn't quite want to acknowledge, just because she clung to what was normal and what she felt was right. Why weren't things clean cut anymore? It was so much easier when she wasn't supposed to care. And it was definitely easier when she wasn't supposed to trust him.

Hermione watched the rain fall outside. It trickled down the windows and blurred the view of the outside, of his house. She sighed, not knowing what to do anymore. A sudden tap on the window woke her from the consuming thoughts and she rose from the chair she resided in. She could see the faint outline of an owl perched outside her window and she hurried over to let the soaked animal inside. Confused at the foreign owl, she reached out and took the roll it had attached to its leg.

Before she could unroll it herself, it did so on its own and she recognised the logo of the Daily Prophet. The pages of the newspaper suddenly began flipping on their own, and eventually came to a halt in the entertainment section. Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion until her eyes suddenly stopped on a picture at the top right of the page. Ron smiled charmingly at her from the newspaper resting on her dresser, before he turned back towards a stunning blonde wearing a tight, red dress. She waved at the camera before saying something to Ron, who laughed appreciatively.

Hermione wanted to scream. _This_ was the woman she had been traded for. This magnificent creature of blonde hair and legs going on forever. Who had sent her this? Who had wanted for her to suffer knowing she could never in a million years measure up to Ron's new girlfriend? Tears threatened to spill as she took in the brilliant smile and gorgeous, clear blue eyes the beauty fixed lovingly on Ron.

A small sob escaped her lips as she wrapped her arms protectively around her own less-than-perfect frame. She wasn't tall, she wasn't slender and she didn't have a face worthy a cosmetics ad. In fact, she was on the short side, and rather more curvy than she liked to admit. But she had never really doubted herself, she had never felt inadequate or uncomfortable in her own skin... until now.

The large ornamental clock above the fireplace told her it was almost midnight, but she couldn't care less. Grabbing the newspaper in her fisted hand she bolted towards the door and flung it open, not bothering to throw her cloak on. The rain whipped mercilessly against her face mixing with her tears, but she just ran down the pathway and threw the gate open. Once on the road she turned right immediately and entered onto his lawn. She had never been on his premises. He had always been the one to come to her, but it was time for the connection to work both ways.

Before she could change her mind, she reached out her free hand and banged on his door. Her hair was beginning to stick to her face, the heavy rain working hard on drenching her, even if she'd only been outside for a few minutes. She could hear his steps moments before the door was pulled open and he stood face to face with her tear-stained features. His eyebrows shot up into a surprised expression, but she didn't speak. She just held out the newspaper before wrapping her arms around herself and did everything to avoid his gaze. He furrowed his brows at her behaviour, but stepped aside and let her enter.

Even in her state she noticed that the house was tastefully decorated. She wondered briefly if he had done it himself, but realised he must have... he had cut all contact with the people back in London afterall. She turned her attention towards him as his eyes fell to the newspaper she had trust into his hands. His eyes widened slightly as his mouth formed into a understanding 'oh'. His concentration lingered on the picture a moment longer before his eyes rose and met hers.

"Sit," he finally said, gesturing towards one of the large chairs by the fire.

She gave a half smile, or at least that's what it was supposed to be, before sliding into the surprisingly comfortable chair. She allowed herself to relax into it in front of the creaking fire. He had obviously been seated in the other chair, she noticed, as a book was resting on the armrest and a small glass of some alcoholic beverage sat on the table between them.

He lowered himself into the chair and put the book carefully down onto the floor below. Seeming lost in thought he brought the glass up to his lips and she was momentarily absorbed in his surprisingly rosy lips. Then her eyes fell to the newspaper still clutched in his other hand and she came crushing back to reality.

"That's the girl he had in my bed," she said in a frighteningly calm voice.

While it had probably been expected after seeing the picture, the comment still seemed to rattle his cool demeanor somewhat. His head whipped towards her, a look of shock flashing in his eyes before they remained their calm grey yet again.

"I competed against _that_ without knowing it for 6 months. Well, we probably competed longer. She's just been winning for 6 months," she laughed bitterly.

As she stared into the flames she knew he would give her the chance to speak her mind. It calmed her to know he wouldn't be asking any tricky questions...at least not yet.

"I was such a fool. I thought everything was alright, that we were doing great. Or at least I wanted to think that." She looked down into her lap and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "We'd been trying to get pregnant for a few months when I found out. Another test had come back negative just a few days earlier. He told me... that he didn't love me anymore and that when he found out I wasn't pregnant he was relieved."

She gave a bitter laugh. "I suppose I am the one who's relieved now. Being pregnant in all this mess would probably have pushed me over the edge."

He was just staring into the flames now, but she could tell from the way his lips pursed together that he was listening intently.

"It's been hard enough to come to terms with the fact that I've been living a lie for so long. I guess it has dawned on me that things weren't perfect before the affair started either, but it's so hard to let go of something that's been a part of your life since...forever."

She sighed, not wanting to think of all the years they had been so happy together.

"I felt so rejected. Like I wasn't good enough for him, and I've never had any reason to feel like that before with anything. It's completely new to me, and it's hard to handle. And then I see that picture. I see that perfect woman smile lovingly at him, and I can't even understand why he didn't dump me sooner. How could I ever compete?"

"Did you look this up?" he asked suddenly, gesturing towards the picture in the paper.

She shook her head slowly. "It was delivered to me by owl just now."

He looked quite perplexed at this.

"What kind of heartless idiot would send me this?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"I don't know," he replied, giving a heavy sigh. "Maybe someone who thought you didn't know."

"How could I not if he took this girl to some event?"

He didn't reply to that, he merely gave a tiny nod and stared ahead for a short moment.

"Look, I'm no saint," he suddenly said, a lopsided smile appearing on his lips. "I'm not going to lie... I've cheated before. But I've never been in a serious relationship, and I have never given anyone the pretense of anything being serious between us."

She nodded, having guessed that he wasn't exactly the image of an angel.

"This whole thing disgusts me, to be honest. You were trying to have a family, for Merlin's sake," he exclaimed, sounding more infuriated than she had expected. "But infidelity is often a consequence of something else, and chances are your relationship was already on rocky ground."

He let these words sink in, and saw her bite her lip as she sighed.

"He's moving on, and so should you. You've been treated badly, but that doesn't mean everyone will be the same. In the end, I strongly believe it's his loss."

"Yeah right. He's the one prancing around with the busty, blonde miracle."

"Granger, those girls are empty shells ... most of them anyway. They couldn't carry a conversation if their lives depended on it, and all their lives center around is being pretty. Believe me, I've met my share."

"Probably shagged your share too," she challenged, raising her eyebrow mockingly.

He chuckled at her nerve. "Not as many as you'd think."

"I should have come to you sooner," she admitted after a moment of silence.

"Can't argue with that."

She shot him a vile look, but he seemed to have fallen thoughtful. Inclining her head slightly she watched his face as he was lost in his own world. When he awoke and noticed her looking he gave a mischievous grin.

"Allow me..." he said, and rose from his chair.

She watched him in wonder, wondering what he was up to, and then gave a small laugh when he threw the newspaper into the fire.

"Look at it as a ritual," he told her as he took his seat again. "As you're burning the picture of your ex boyfriend and his new girlfriend, you can let go of all this nonsense about not being good enough."

"Who says it's nonsense?" she asked, feeling rather indignant that he just disregarded her feelings.

"I do," he retorted back, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "You are a lot of things, Granger. You're annoying, know-it-all, pretentious, overbearing and disgustingly obedient, but if there's something you've never been it's inadequate."

She gave him an incredulous look, uncertain at how to interpret this speech.

"Oh, come on," he laughed. "You were at the top of our class from day one. Heck, I'm willing to bet Hogwarts has yet to see anyone with your academic record and skills. You got an internship with Severus Snape. He wouldn't even give one to me, his godson."

"You're his godson?" she asked in surprise. No one had ever known that, not even as they worked together in the time of war.

"I am, but that's besides the point. You're disgustingly good, Granger. The thought that you should be considered not good enough for something is completely laughable."

"I can't be good at everything," she spat back, feeling a bit defensive. She wasn't as obnoxiously perfect as he tried to portray her. "When it comes to relationships I'm pretty much an amateur. All I've ever experienced is one date with Viktor Krum and then there's Ron."

"Well, what do you do when you don't know something?"

She hesitated for a second. "Research it? Try to figure it out and teach it to myself?"

"Exactly," he smirked.

"Are you saying I should...date?" she asked in a small voice.

He laughed loudly at this. "You say that as if it was the worst thing in the world."

"Well, to me it is. I don't know anything about dating. Or guys. Let alone what is expected of _me_."

"Which is exactly why you should figure it out," he told her smartly.

"I'm not dating."

"Suit yourself," he smiled, stretching out in the chair and planting his feet on the fireplace.

She looked at him for a second and shook her head incredulously. She was _not_ having this conversation with Draco Malfoy. Life was absurd.

"Well... thanks for listening," she said awkwardly, and when he nodded in reply she turned rose from her seat and left him by the fire.

* * *

It felt undeniably strange to be in a friendly relationship with Draco Malfoy, yet the transition wasn't as difficult as she would have imagined. Perhaps it was the fact that the two of them were hiding out in a small town, away from all their previous influences. In the halls of Hogwarts or the Ministry, it would perhaps have been more difficult to start a friendship, but as the neighbours Hermione Granger and Draco 'Mason' it was frighteningly natural

She often found herself leaning over the hedge as he worked on his garden, and she would tease him light heartedly about his obsession with the small patch of lawn. Sometimes he would tease her right back, other times he would play along and often he ignored it and turned the conversation onto other tracks.

Once she felt done with teasing him about his 'homosexual tendencies' – as she so preferred to call it – he would take a break from his work, sitting down next to her at her table where she had of course already installed some sort of drink depending on the weather.

Their friendship was so normal it could without a doubt be called abnormal, considering who the participants were. She knew no one would believe her if she ever told them that she spent her days drinking lemonade and chatting with Draco Malfoy about the odds and ends of life. And they would be even more surprised to learn that the two of them were not quite as different as first believed. There were a number of things they agreed on, a number of books they both enjoyed, a number of people they both lived to insult once they were out of earshot.

It filled her with a sort of eerie peace, this new routine of theirs. It was like being in an alternate universe where the war was a sordid fairy tale and rivalry had never even surfaced at all. She smiled as she remembered the Polaroid photo stuck on the door of her fridge. It had suddenly made its appearance one day after she came back from the store, and she had doubled over laughing when she noticed what it was. Somehow, he had managed to capture her in a very unfortunate moment where here face was screwed up in an annoyed frown and her entire body was still glowing marvelously green. She was also, for some reason, stomping around on the floor. The picture's caption read _I always knew you were a Slytherin deep down_. Those small, yet significant moments filled her life as Draco Malfoy's neighbour. There was no life or death anymore. No searing scars, horcruxes or prophecies. It was just silly inside jokes, small town life and uneventful days passing by in a comfortable haze.

But she should have known that her life was rarely uneventful and comfortable for long. She had found her comfort zone as Draco Malfoy's friend, but circumstances were pulling her out of it. Actually, Miranda Alm was pulling her out of it quite effectively.

"I couldn't help but notice you've figured things out," she commented as Hermione was sitting with her on her front porch one lazy afternoon.

She nodded slowly. "It all came together somehow. It's a bit strange."

"It seems pretty natural to me," the plump lady said with a wide smile as she watched him cutting her tall hedge.

"We've just never been friends before."

"I could never have guessed. You look very comfortable together."

"I suppose we are," Hermione admitted reluctantly, giving a careful smile.

Their conversation was cut short as he straightened up, run his hand through his damp hair and moved towards them. He let out a heavy sigh and fell into the chair opposite her.

"Making me cut the hedge in this heat... slave driver."He huffed with a mock-indignant glare at Miranda. She just rolled her eyes at him and poured him a glass of newly made pumpkin juice.

"Now you know how house-elves feel," Hermione told him, seeing her chance to speak someone else's cause.

He groaned loudly and smacked his hand over his eyes. "No, anything but the house elf speech."

"Elfish welfare is important," she said indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. "They can't speak up for themselves, so someone has to do it. Their working hours are horrible, and not to mention the lack of pay."

"Yes yes yes. Spew is grand, Spew is great. If I give my house elf a sock he'll run off into la-la land dancing on rainbows and grant everyone he meets three wishes."

Hermione glared at him and opened her mouth to retort hotly.

Miranda quickly realised Hermione's over-enthusiasm for the cause, and broke in before the S.P.E.W enthusiast could make her point.

"I talked to Ella the other day," she said, louder than she honestly needed to.

"You talk to Ella every day," he retorted with his eyebrow raised.

"Technicalities," she brushed off, waving her hand dismissively. "My point was that I heard she set you up with the only one of her daughters you have yet to date."

He laughed loudly at this, shaking his head. "The woman never does give up."

"Lola is a very fine young woman," Miranda proclaimed proudly. "A very accomplished witch, very beautiful and magnificently bright for her age."

"So I've heard," he nodded. "I'm sure I will enjoy our dinner immensely."

Hermione tensed in her seat. He had actually said yes? He was going to have dinner with this bright and beautiful _Lola_? She wanted to retch just hearing the name. The name alone spoke such volumes of what an airhead this was bound to be, and she supposed that was just his type. That woman he could manipulate without her asking a single critical question. She glared at him just at the thought.

"You would be such a cute couple," Miranda fawned, giving his arm a slight pat. "She's blonde too, not quite as blonde as yourself, but you would look marvelous together."

Hermione's head snapped towards the older lady. That was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. Like you could ever base a relationship on sharing the blonde gene. She wanted to puke right into the woman's begonias, that's what she wanted to do. And then she would wipe out every blonde woman from planet earth. Yes, good plan. Very good plan indeed.

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**A/N:**

Hey all :D Thanks for all the great reviews, I love reading them; what you think about the fic, how your percieve the characters, etc. So .. thanks a million! And feel free to leave whatever you wish on this chapter too ;)

To answer some of the ones I got for the previous chapter:

AurorWriter: Thanks for the review, I really appreciate it. As for the town, I don't have a specific one I modelled it after, at least not to my conscious knowledge. For all I know I might have seen one somewhere and it's been in the back of my my mind just lying there. But I can't point to any specific town, no.

Actually, I'm Norwegian, so my portrayal of a typical Northern English town is probably not all that accurate. I was re-reading a chapter earlier and I saw the line "the sun still barely visible over the mountains" or something similar, and I went _hey... does England even have that many mountains?_ :P It's just one of those things that are really natural for me, in my setting, but I don't actually know if it'd be as natural in England.

_Pstibbons:_ Yes, Hermione definitely needed and still needs time, and as this chapter shows, I also believe she just needed that final push. And she doesn't have much to lose by trusting him, but it's one of those situations where it's hard to let go of the past and former opinions. It is rather confusing to see someone change that much, and since she hasn't met him in 4 years it's an abrupt change to her, even if it's been gradual for him.

I haven't actually specified Snape's location, but he'll probably show up somewhere along the line. We'll see if he fits in. :P


	9. The Date

**Disclaimer:** I kow this is HORRIBLY hard to believe, but I'm not a famous author. I know! Isn't it crazy?

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_Chapter 9 / The Date_

Hermione Granger was getting ready for a date. She had made a tasty, yet simple dinner. She was wearing her best jeans and her hair was satisfactorily tamed. As time crept closer, she took a seat by the small wooden table facing her living room window. Her dinner was placed delicately in front of her, the omnioculars resting right next to her glass of water. She brought the fork up to her lips and gingerly closed her lips around it, waiting patiently for _the date_. Draco Malfoy and _Lola_'s date.

It wasn't that she really cared. No, she just couldn't stand the thought of her _friend_ lowering himself to such standards. Why should a reasonably intelligent, charming and understanding man settle for someone who could offer nothing but good looks? Not that she even knew Lola, of course, but she knew the type. And when she saw the younger girl stride up the pathway on long, tan legs her thoughts were immediately confirmed.

When he came to open the door and Lola greeted him with a wide smile, her eyes were focused on them unblinkingly, hungrily devouring every detail of the scene in front of her. They disappeared from sight once he let her in the door, and she chewed furiously on her dinner, reaching for the omnioculars. She rose them to her eyes, pressing down the small flutter of guilt racing through her.

She wasn't a stalker, she was just concerned. Maybe it wasn't quite the right way to go about things, but she did tend to have some rather creative solutions for certain problems. Always quite inside the boundaries of rules, but creative nonetheless. At least this way she could save him if the date turned disastrous. What if Lola was a spy sent from Harry who had accidentally found out about him being her neighbour? Alright, now her excuses were getting ridiculous. The point was; She wasn't a stalker. She was just a concerned and caring friend.

Through the omnioculars she had a prefect view of the two lovebirds standing in his living room. She immediately regretted not installing a bug, as she could see them talk, but couldn't make out a single word. She would definitely have to learn to read lips if he was going to keep this dating game up. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched Lola step towards the comfortable chairs by the fire, and her mind quickly revisited the night she had been seated in that very chair pouring her heart out. She ignored the twinge it caused, and consentrated on the elegant movements of that damn perfect blonde.

Why did Miranda always have to be right? They did look amazing together, and it infuriated her even further. Who was this girl to just march in and look like she was made to be with him? Not that Hermione cared, obviously. It was just slightly annoying, that's all. She clutched harder onto her omnioculars as she watched the date progressing. The two were soon seated for dinner, a meal Hermione knew for a fact he had made himself. She watched them keep light conversation, talking easily back and forth. It seemed to be going disturbingly well. When he actually laughed merrily at something Lola said, Hermione knew she could no longer follow the date with the pretense of saving him if it went wrong.

With a small sigh, she put the omnioculars down on the table, before grabbing her now empty plates. She rose and turned her back to the view to his house as she headed into the kitchen with the dirty dishes. They were dropped unceremoniously into the kitchen sink and she sunk against it, suppressing the depressing thoughts threatening to make themselves known. She glanced over to her kitchen door where the photograph of her hung, slightly leaning to the right.

She didn't like the way her thoughts were heading, so she pushed away from the kitchen counter and headed into the living room, making a conscious effort not to look out the window. Okey, so she had hoped the date would be a fiasco, and she tried to block out the fact that it obviously wasn't. She walked restlessly back and forth in the living room, trying to force herself to think and feel as little as possible. She had a distinct feeling she would not like what her thoughts could tell her.

After pacing aimlessly for ages, she relented and fell to the floor in front of the fireplace. She took a small portion of the little floo powder she had and tossed it into the flames with a slightly annoyed flick of her hand.

"Hey, Gin," she greeted, and almost flinched at how dull and unenthusiastic her words sounded.

"Uh oh," the redhead retorted, slipping down from the couch she had been inhabiting.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Uh oh; what?"

"I know that look."

"I'm not wearing a _look_," she replied indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest even if Ginny couldn't see it.

Ginny didn't reply, but her challengingly raised eyebrow spoke volumes.

"Oh okey. I admit it," Hermione sighed. "I'm wearing my 'I-have-to-talk-to-my-annoying-bestfriend-who-thinks-she-has-me-completely-figured-out-even-if-she's-not-even-close'-look."

The girl just snorted and shook her head.

"I know your 'boy-trouble' look from miles away, my dear," she said, making herself comfortable on the floor. "What did Ron do now?"

"Ron hasn't done anything," she answered truthfully, and only realised her mistake a second too late.

Ginny's eyes widened and a beaming smile spread across her face.

"Oh Great Merlin! You've found someone new!"

_Oh bugger_.

"I haven't found anyone," she replied, a slight surge of panic making itself evident.

"Don't you try to lie to me, Hermione," the redhead threatened, crossing her arms angrily beneath her chest.

"Look, I'm not lying. I met this guy, but he's just my neighbour. And we're friends, but that's all."

Ginny huffed. "Your disheartened look states otherwise."

"I'm not disheartened, you annoying little know-it-all."

Ginny gave a barking laugh at this, and the irony wasn't lost on Hermione either.

"There isn't anything going on between us," she said with force. "In fact, he's on a date right now."

"Aha!" the youngest Weasley cried, raising her hand above her head. "I knew there was something up!"

Hermione found herself blushing slightly, to her own horror and frustration.

"The new object of your affections is on a date with another women. That is a tricky one," she commented, her slender finger tapping her chin repeatedly. "But I suppose the solution is quite simple after all."

Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted to know or not. This was entirely ridiculous.

"You need to snatch him for yourself before he gets serious with the other bitch."

"Ginny," Hermione complained, groaning in frustration at the entire ordeal.

"Snatch who before he get serious with who?" a familiar voice questioned.

"Oh, Hermione's found a new guy," Ginny explained before turning around to beam at Harry, who had appeared in the doorway.

"That's great," he grinned, moving from his place by the door.

"Well, he's on a date with this other girl," his girlfriend said in a hushed voice.

"Oh, less great."

"He. Is. Not. My. New. Guy," she growled in frustration, rolling her eyes at the two.

"Don't think you can fool us, you're wearing your 'boy-trouble' look," Harry chastised, wagging his finger before her eyes.

"You people are unbelievable," she sighed, shaking her head in complete perplexity. "I don't have a look, for the last frigging time!"

"No need to get defensive," Ginny told her soothingly. "We know it can be scary when you figure out you have feelings for someone."

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed heavily.

"You stubborn, know-it-all Gryffindors," she cried, setting her lips into a visible pout.

Harry and Ginny both burst out in hysterical laughter at this. Harry bent over and held onto his knees while looking at Hermione with an incredulous look.

"Did you just insult Gryffindor?"

"Er...I...suppose I did," she replied sheepishly, wondering where on earth it had come from.

"I think he's a bad influence on you, that guy," Ginny commented, her cheeks flushed from laughter. "But you deserve some fun, so I'm going to let it slide."

"Too bad for him that he's just my friend, then."

"Oh, Hermione. You are so very cute when you're in denial," Harry said with a sweet smile. "Just stop fighting it and let life move forwards. You deserve to move on from Ron, there's no need for you to keep having your mind on what happened in the past."

"I saw the picture in the Prophet, Harry," she told him with a roll of her eyes. "You don't need to drop small hints about moving on so I won't be crushed when I find out, cause I already know."

Harry looked positively stunned, but he pulled himself together quickly.

"I'm sorry you had to see it," he said in a murmur.

She shrugged. "My friend helped me through it."

She didn't miss the wink Ginny gave her, and she glowered in return.

"Just stop trying to deny it, Hermione," she said, giving her friend a soft smile. "Who knows what wonderful things you will miss out on if you don't take this chance."

"You two are so annoying," she told them with a glare.

"But you love us anyway," Harry chipped in, giving her a smug grin.

"Unfortunately, yes," she retorted and gave them a brief smile before pulling her head out of the fireplace again.

She remained seated on the hard wooden floor in front of the fireplace, her mind wandering mercilessly to forbidden grounds. They couldn't be right, could they? She wasn't really having any feelings for Draco Malfoy? That would be absolutely absurd. Not only had she hated him for most of her life, but the thought of them sharing anything romantic was ridiculous... wasn't it?

It was late in the evening that she noticed something she would rather not think about. His living room was now empty, but Hermione had never seen her leave the house. The thought made her swallow heavily and she clutched onto her book almost violently. There was only one place they could have gone, wasn't it?

Before she could catch up with her racing imagination she had darted up from the chair in desperation and began pacing the floor. She couldn't look through his bedroom window from her own bathroom window because of that bloody tree blocking the way, so that plan was out of the question. But she had to know. _Why _she had to know was an entirely different matter that she refused to think about.

Cursing her own weakness, she wrecked open her front door and crept out onto her own lawn. She backed herself up against the wall of her house and followed it stealthily around the corner, all the while keeping her eyes locked on his bedroom window. There was no way she could see what was going on in there from all the way down here, and she knew she had to get up higher somehow.

She figured the first step was to get over the hedge, which she managed after several failed tries and a bruised hip. Once she was on the other side it dawned on her that she could have just walked around it, and she sighed at her own stupid antics. But even if she felt like an idiot, there was no stopping her now. She had to find out, and the answer was staring her right in the face.

The large tree stood between their houses, many of its branches growing conveniently close to the walls of his house. If only she could climb the tree, and get onto one of the branches, she could probably stand on the half-timbering under his window and peak inside.

She set to work immediately, trying not to think about how disturbing this behavior really was. If someone saw her, she knew what it must look like... well it looked exactly like it was, she supposed. But they couldn't understand how she needed to know. She desperately needed to know if she was up there with him, to know if perfect Lola was going to enter a relationship with Draco Malfoy and be the perfect blond couple.

After a few failed attempts of climbing the tree, she remembered a convenient sticking charm that she applied to the soles of her shoes. It made it considerably easier to climb the stem of the tree, and she reached up towards the branches higher up to pull herself further towards the top. She had quite forgotten how fun it was to climb trees, since she hadn't actually climbed one since she was about 8. Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Her heart picked up speed as she stood shakily on one of the thicker branches, arching closer to the wall of his house. She was so close, and she was steadily getting more nervous. Her hand finally made contact with the white stone wall, and she carefully stepped on the piece of timber running in a line underneath his window.

Her hands closed around the window sill, and she pulled herself up to peak through the window. She didn't know if she was relieved or unnerved, but the bedroom seemed to be completely empty. Maybe he wanted to be more adventurous? Maybe they had taken their activites somewhere more exciting? The thought made her retch. She turned her attention downwards to check if her feet were still sticking to the wood, keeping her balanced.

She seemed to be standing at least somewhat controlled, and she turned her gaze upwards again only to yelp loudly in panic. _Oh fuck_. She closed her eyes and begged that it would be gone when she opened them again, but as her eyelids reluctantly rose to regain her vision the horrific image was still there. And it was smirking. Widely.

She stared into his pale face, where his lips was pulled into a familiar smirk, his eyebrows raised in a very questioning manner and his head was inclined slightly to the side.

"The entrance is on the other side," he commented dryly, and her cheeks burned bright red in embarrassment.

She gave a dry laugh. "So... where's Lola?"

She could have killed herself. Could she be any more obvious? If it hadn't meant certain death, she would have released her hands to beat her fists against her head repeatedly.

Her cheeks became, if possible, even redder as his expression lit up in comprehesion.

"Oh, so that's what this is all about," he said, a small chuckle escaping from his lips. "You're risking your life to check if Lola and I were shagging?"

"I'm not risking my life," she bit. "I will have you know that I have cast a very competent sticking charm on my shoes."

He threw his head back and laughed heartily, before shaking his head in what appeared to be amazement.

"Lola apparated home an hour ago, after our meal had finished," he told her, and she desperately tried to hide her relief. Though she wasn't entirely sure how much of a point that was, considering the situation.

He leaned further out of the window and peered down on her flushed face. "You're a real fruitcake, you know that, right?"

She sighed in defeat, but only nodded in reply as his face seemed to be all too close. All the small details of his face was visible as he bent out over the window sill, peering down on her as she stood on the piece half-timbering on the wall of his house, clutching his window sill tightly.

It was only for a split second that she saw him leaning in before she felt a warm pressure against the lower part of her face. It was yet another second before she understood it was his lips... on hers. As she opened up to the feeling of soft heat and answered his kiss, her eyes fluttered shut and her body seemed to be losing all control. Perhaps he sensed this, because he grabbed her wrists to hold her in place. His fingers closed around her racing pulse as his lips moved gently across hers. If she had known his kisses felt this good, she would have done this much sooner.

A few moments later, when her pulse was even higher and she felt so warm all over that she could hardly stop herself from squirming, he broke the kiss carefully and stared down on her. She gave a sheepish grin, having a hard time disguising her euphoria, but paled slightly when he took out his wand. Was this one of those _I could kiss you, but then I would have to kill you_ kind of deals?

Her eyes widened in horror, and tried desperately to find a way out of this mess.

"I'm levitating you inside, I'm not going to _hurt_ you," he said in exasperation, rolling his eyes in an overexaggerated manner.

Her mouth formed into an 'o', feeling quite silly for jumping to such drastic conclusions. Seconds later he levitated her carefully in the window, and she was quite relieved when she landed safely on her feet next to him. She looked down and ran her hands over her clothes to remove the dirt and creases.

"Who knew you found stalkers a turn on?" she commented with a sideways grin.

His face held an amused expressions as he watched the facts slowly dawn on her. At first, her cheeks darkened into a very unflattering crimson red, then her hand flew up to her mouth and her eyes grew wide. She had _stalked_ Draco Malfoy. Hermione Granger had_ stalked_ Draco Malfoy. She saw his shoulders shake with suppressed laughter, and she wanted to scream in utter embarrassment.

His hand reached out to sooth her, but she suddenly turned and ran out of the room. She couldn't stand there in his bedroom with him, knowing she had entered it through the bloody window. Things were absolutely crazy. And as if that wasn't enough... Lola had been on the date, but somehow, Hermione had ended up with the goodnight kiss.

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**A/N:** Thanks to all wonderful reviewers, I really really appreciate it! I also hope you enjoyed Stalker!Hermione. I know I enjoyed writing it :P


	10. The Score

**Disclaimer:** Guess.. No, no, just guess! Haha, no I'm not JK Rowling. Guess again!

**A/N:** I thought I would throw the last finished chapter up before everyone gets lost in the world of Deathly Hallows. Not counting those of you morons have read it online already. :P I'm severely annoyed about it, supposedly, leaking online. Why does some people have to ruin the fun for everyone else all the time? Come on, some of us have been waiting for this for a decade. I for one know I want to read the book holding it in my hands; the real deal!

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_Chapter 10 / The Score_

"Hermione, dear, you look a mess."

Hermione looked up from her book and used her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. The faint outline of Miranda was barely noticeable in the blinding sunlight, but she could recognise the voice anywhere.

"I slept really badly," she explained evasively and pulled out the chair next to her as an invitation. And it wasn't even a lie. She hadn't slept well... correction; she hadn't slept much at all.

"Ah, I see," Miranda replied knowingly, taking the seat offered to her.

Hermione frowned at that, feeling fairly certain that Miranda did not _see_. It's not like she could know Hermione had acted like an hormonal teenager, climbing walls just to make sure Malfoy didn't 'befoul' himself with Lola.

"Yesterday was Draco and Lola's date," the older lady commented, keeping her watchful gaze on the girl next to her.

"Oh yeah?" Hermione answered, trying to sound as uninterested as possible. "I suppose it was, now that you mention it."

"You don't happen to know how it went?"

"Er, no. I haven't asked him about it," she lied, hoping her expression didn't give it away. Deliberately lying had never been her strong suit.

"So you've seen him?"

"Briefly."

Hermione saw the other lady smile distantly, and she found it rather unnerving. She couldn't understand what this was all about, or what Miranda's goal was with this conversation.

"I heard Lola had a _magnificent_ time. I had Ella floo me this morning, and she said Lola was so impressed by Draco and was absolutely _delighted _by his company," she rambled and Hermione wanted so very desperately to roll her eyes.

"Yes, he is a very delightful man," she replied dryly, thinking back to some of his more unflattering moments in time.

Miranda didn't seem much perturbed by Hermione's obvious lack of enthusiasm, and she turned in her seat to face the girl who deliberately avoided her gaze.

"Lola is of course very certain to attain a new date. She reckons they had a very good... _chemistry_."

The implied physical contact between the two almost made her flinch. But Lola hadn't been there when she came, and he said she had gone home an hour previously. Though that didn't necessarily mean that absolutely nothing happened. She began to fidget slightly in her chair, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach, and not from embarrassment this time.

"Of course, their children would look absolutely _ador –_"

"Stop it!" she suddenly screeched, feeling whatever it was rising in her chest, almost suffocating her from the inside.

In desperation she had darted up from the chair, her curls standing like a wild halo about her head. "Why are you telling me all this? What are you trying to achieve?!"

"That," Miranda said calmly, giving her first true smile that morning.

Hermione found herself heaving for breath, looking at the older lady in absolute confusion. This was making no sense, and as if that wasn't enough she had let her impulses win again. She noticed that she was standing by her chair, her hands clenching and unclenching, like some raving lunatic right out of St. Mungo's psych ward. Feeling her cheeks burn, she fell back into the chair and buried her face in her hands.

"I was looking for a reaction, Hermione," she said soothingly. "Love, it's so obvious to anyone but you, and I wanted to help you see what the rest of us do."

Hermione peaked at her through her fingers, not knowing if she should feel grateful or aggravated beyond belief. She was honestly leaning towards the latter at the moment. What gave this woman the right to look for her_ reaction_?

"Look, I'm sorry if I upset you," she said genuinely, looking slightly put down. "But I mean what I told you the first time we met... Draco is too proud to let anyone else choose a woman for him."

She rose from her chair, her last comment standing as the final words between them. Hermione watched her retreating back with disturbingly mixed emotions. In other words; She was mighty confused.

So it was horrendously obvious that she was somewhat jealous of Lola. If the wallclimbing last night hadn't convinced her of that, the recent conversation certainly had, but she couldn't quite understand _why_. Miranda was definitely implying that she had feelings for the blonde, but she couldn't embrace that. Why would she ever have feelings for him? They weren't compatible, they had a complicated past, he was everything she had said she would never want and they would have what felt like the entire wizarding world against any relationship they might try. And of course; he wouldn't have any feelings for her anyway. Why would he? _She_ was everything he had always despised.

The more she thought about it, the more certain she became. He was the only one she had really made any contact with, and she had grown used to his undivided attention for weeks. Any competition from another female would of course interfere with their routines and limit the time they could spend together. Of course she would be annoyed, as his friend and neighbour. There was also the fact that he was a connection to her life back home. Yes, she loved the small town she had found herself, but she also missed London, especially Wizarding London. She had always liked how vibrant everything was, how pulsating it seemed when everyday life sent people to their respective destinations. Her friends all resided in or around London, and she missed all of them dearly. In an odd way he seemed like her connection to it all. When she saw him she was instantly reminded that there was a life beyond her current quiet existence. A life she was planning to return to once she felt entirely ready.

Her explanation for the sudden jealousy made her calm down, and she relaxed in the comfortable chair, enjoying the heat from the midday sun. She spent hours lounging in her garden, reading and relaxing, until the pressing matter of a low food stock forced her onto the road leading to town.

She always loved walking into town. It was always so quiet and serene, and so very easy to enjoy. It was such a contrast to London, but she loved both opposites in its own way. The calm versus the vibrant, the loneliness versus the crowd. It was strange how you could love both of those at the same time.

As she walked on, having grown used to the sound of her footsteps against the gravel road, it became apparent that they were no longer the only sound heard. And it was strange, since she could not spot another being in either direction. She turned around several times, peering carefully up and down the road. It was beginning to unnerve her slightly, especially since she could only hear the foreign sounds when she was in movement. While she was standing still, everything was completely silent.

The minutes rolling by left her war-ridden senses raw and aware. Her pulse was rapidly growing, adrenaline surging through her body as she listened carefully at the foreign noises. When she felt a light pressure on her shoulder, her fighter instinct was so elevated that her reflects were unstoppable. She turned within an instant and cast the first hex that came to mind, before throwing another just for good measure. Even if the blinding hex should keep her attacker in check, nasty boils was a good way to suffer for daring to follow her and attack her from behind.

After the cloud of adrenaline and the shouts of anger calmed, she remained standing limply in the middle of the road, a dawning horror slowly developing in her mind.

"FUCK, Granger," he bellowed, writhing uncomfortably on the ground.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," she cried back, finally realising what she had done. "You can't sneak up on me like that, you idiot. I'm a trained soldier. You know that!"

She bent down to help him up, but he flinched when she touched him. For a second she felt offended, thinking he still couldn't stand her 'dirty' touch, but then realised parts of him were covered in nasty boils from her very competent hex. And... _oh God no_.

"What the hell is covering my eyes. Get it off, you maniac."

"There's... nothing covering your eyes," she muttered in defeat, finding his hand and pulled him carefully off the ground with some difficulty.

"Of course there is, I can't see a... YOU CRAZY BINT," he screamed so loudly she nearly jumped out of her own skin. "You've _blinded_ me!"

"I thought you were a Death Eater," she said, defending herself furiously as she put his arm around her shoulders. "You followed me for ages and then grabbed my shoulder. I thought I was being attacked."

"Why on earth would there be a _Death Eater_, here of all places? Never mind the fact that there are practically none left. And those who are left are completely off their rocker and spends all their time sitting in their vaults throwing their Galleons into the air while laughing menacingly!"

"I wasn't exactly thinking straight, now was I? I was in defense mode!"

"Well my intention wasn't to scare you, you paranoid troll," he muttered under his breath, having a hard time keeping upright even if she had put her hand around his waist, trying to guide him safely back.

"Oh yes, my bad," she bit, still guiding him back along the road. "How could I ever be freaked out by wondering if I was going to be raped and killed right on the side of the road?!"

Her voice had increased in volume by every word, making him wince slightly at the end of her tirade.

"I would never rape you."

She sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes for good measure. "I didn't know it was _you_. If I had known I would have bound your feet together and cackled evilly as you fell flat on your face, not _blinded_ your arse."

Her comment suddenly broke the tense atmosphere as a chuckle escaped from his lips. "That would be so like you, you conniving little witch."

"Oh, shut up," she laughed, relieved to see their houses coming up on the right side of the road. "Okey, we have to turn right now."

He slowed down immediately and she could sense his insecurity.

"It's alright, just mind the stones on the pathway."

She managed to help him into her house, which was marginally closer than his, and finally got him seated on her couch. Her guilt flared when he winced in pain just as he sat back towards the pillows. Impulse action was really beginning to become somewhat of a problem for her.

"I have some potions that will help for that," she muttered, watching as he sat stiffly on the couch, trying not to rub any part of himself against another.

She didn't wait for a reply before she headed up the stairs to her personal potions storage (i.e the ornamental chest resting in front of her large mahogany bed). In addition to what she had brought from home, there was bound to be something usable among what she had bought from the local potions store. She squatted down and started rummaging through her labelled vials and bags, searching for anything to sooth the pain or make it vanish completely. Feelings of guilt, pity and something else she couldn't quite pinpoint swirled in her head as she tried to focus on the task she had set herself.

When she walked down the stairs with what she could find of useful potions, she couldn't help but wonder how she had ended up with a blind and wounded Malfoy on her couch without feeling any satisfaction from the situation. Instead she just felt incredibly bad and an unexplainable urge to make things right.

He seemed to be straining his ears and straightened up when he heard her footsteps closing in. It pained her oddly to see him so helpless, sitting on her couch with a confused grimace on his usually confident face. His eyes were wavering, moving from one spot to the other, presumably trying to find her, but she knew he couldn't see anything but darkness.

"Hey," she said lamely, partially to let him know where she was standing. His head slowly followed the direction of her voice. "I didn't find any antidotes that might work, but I found some potions I can rub on the boils and hopefully they'll vanish completely."

He gave a jerky nod, which she took as an invite to place herself next to him on the couch.

"How bad is it?" she asked, her voice quiet and dripping with regret.

"I think it's just my arms and shoulders, the rest have somehow gone away on their own," he replied, giving his right shoulder a trying shrug and grimaced.

"Sorry if this is an expensive shirt. I'll replace it," she said before vanishing the garment completely, leaving him to shiver from the sudden rush of cold air against his skin.

Now, Hermione had always been professional. And she always tried her utmost to be professional, but when the certain male sat inches from her in only his jeans and conveniently handicapped in the sight division, she had to restrain herself not to stare sheepishly at his bare torso. She shook her head and chastised herself firmly, before pouring potion on her hands.

The pale skin on his arms were covered in gruesome looking boils and irritated skin, making her take a sharp intake of breath before lowering her hand down on his forearm. He hissed immediately, but remained quiet as she worked the potion as gently as she could onto the damages. She did a splendid job on ignoring who she was running her hands along, and fixed her stare on the awful looking blemishes on his skin.

"Not that I don't enjoy your company, but I would like to be able to take care of myself for a number of more years. I hope you didn't intend on blinding your rapist permanently"

She glared at him, even if he couldn't see it.

"I'm not stupid, you know," she replied indignantly. "I modified the spell years ago to last for a couple of hours, leaving enough time for me to transport any captives I may have blinded in battle."

"So I'll be somewhat unharmed in a couple of hours?"

"You should be just fine," she said dully.

"Except for the emotional scars. I'll come screaming through your front door, horrified by my awful night terrors about the crazed ex-soldier on a mission to blind all charming, sweet men in her path."

"Aren't you just hilarious." She rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Damn, you know how to whine. Who would've guessed you've gone up against the most powerful dark wizard for decades."

"The fine art of whining is a treasured family secret, very well conserved through generations of Malfoys," he smirked, finally relaxing into the pillows.

"You have got to be the greatest talent for a few millenniums, though," she remarked, closing the lid on the potions vial.

"I cannot deny my birth gift," he replied in earnest.

She allowed a smile to grace her face as she shook her head slightly. "Does it feel any better?"

"Not as painful. How does it look? Are my astounding looks going to be mutilated? I might have to take you to the Wizengamot."

"They're decreasing in size, and seems to grow less visible by the second,€" she assured him, putting the vials on the table before she cast a cleaning charm on her hands. "And your skin will look as it always has, you enormous cry baby."

"Enormously _handsome_ cry baby," he corrected, and she snorted inelegantly in response.

She allowed herself to sink back onto the pillows and flung her feet up on the table as he seemed lost in thought. Her eyes fixed on the many-coloured lumps as they gradually seemed to remove themselves from his skin, and she found herself slightly relieved. Now she only had to make sure he could actually see again.

"You know... When you stalk me, I kiss you. When I stalk you, you blind me and try to mutilate me," he suddenly said, a hint of amusement apparent in his voice.

Her eyes grew wide as she suddenly realised what he had been doing.

"You followed me because of yesterday?" she asked incredulously.

"It's only fair," he retorted, smirking at her reaction. "You get to stalk me, I do the same."

This was a development she hadn't quite anticipated. She had considered her actions yesterday a lapse of judgement based on her unwillingness to divide attention between herself and another female, but he was not only not bothered by her behaviour, but also reciprocated it in similar fashion.

And if he reciprocated to her actions, shouldn't she follow his lead too? Like he said.. it was only fair. And that was the only reason she was thinking it. It was certainly not because she liked it and wanted to.

"Yes," she replied slowly, nodding her head. "It is only fair. If I get to do something, you should get to do the same."

"Exactly!" he said triumphantly.

"So, if _you_ do something, I should get to do the same, shouldn't I?" she asked, looking at his now confused expression.

His eyebrows knitted into a frown, and he chewed on his lip for a second as if looking for an appropriate reply. "Er..."

She chuckled quickly at his unintelligent retort.

"According to my logic, you should, though I'm not entirely sure what specifics you're referring to," he admitted, raising his eyebrow slightly at her.

Oh, all the better. The prey was unsuspecting. Just the way she liked it. And it was blind. Oh well, that only made it easier.

He frowned again as she sat up in the couch, and she could only imagine how his mind raced to figure out what she was about to attempt. If he hadn't figured it out yet, she supposed it was a large clue when she swung her leg over his lap and dug her knees into the couch on either side of his thighs. She both felt and saw him take a startled breath, and her eyes instantly locked on his lips as they parted slightly to let the air pass. He was so intoxicatingly close. A miniscule movement and their lips would touch, move against each other in magnificent euphoria.

But while their lips had locked before, she had never been this close to the entirety of him. She remained inches away from his face, enjoying the feel of his distractingly naked skin under her fingertips. They rested in a feather light pressure on his chest, barely touching his smooth skin, refraining from moving an inch. Her eyes roamed his face, enjoying how his breath was getting heavy and erratic, and on an impulse she moved her hand towards his hairline, letting the amazingly soft locks run through her fingers. She let her fingers run down his cheek, her thumb swiftly caressing his parted lips which quivered suddenly under her touch.

That uncontrolled reaction made her patience slip from her grip and her thumb was replaced by her lips in a split second. She dug one of her hands into the wonderful texture of his hair as he began answering her kiss, the undescribable feel of his soft lips on hers overwhelming her completely. Her muscles seemed to lose control and she relaxed further into his body, almost sighing in contentment when his arms reached around her, his hands resting on the small of her back.

She was so lost in the feeling of him that there was no room for hesitation when the tip of their tongues met. She could not for her life answer who had initiated it, but there was not a fiber of her being protesting when he won the little initiation dance and skillfully entered her mouth, sliding along her own tongue. It took all her control to hold back a moan, focusing on answering him with a hunger only a woman rejected could hold.

It seemed all too soon that she broke the contact due to the frightening lack of air. She knew the moment was immediately ruined, and the lust finally suffered a blow from her overwhelming embarrassment. Biting her now bright red lip, she climbed off his lap and sunk back into her seat with an audible sigh.

She gave an awkward cough to break the silence only interrupted by their heavy breathing.

"I believe the score is even," she proclaimed in a raspy voice, her cheeks flaming red at the thought of her flirtatious behaviour.

"Oh I beg to differ," he replied, his voice equally influenced by the recent activity.

"What?"

"Well, for one... _you can still see_!"

Despite the tension she gave an appreciative laugh.

"Well, if you go on another date with Lola I might have to pry my eyes out with a fork."

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**A/N:** Thanks for all reviews. You are all so very sweet and I appreciate it a lot! 


	11. The Visit

**Disclaimer:** I am not JK Rowling. Want to know how I know?

... I would never have written that epilogue. (I would never have been able to write that amazing book either, but that's a different story)

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_Chapter 11 / The Visit_

"No way."

"I swear to Merlin and all his house elves I'm telling the truth."

She looked at him in amazement before shaking her head, having a hard time disguising her disbelieving smile.

"She honestly cornered me in the store demanding to know when our next date was."

As she tried not to gloat too much, she ended up snorting with held-back laughter, hunching over the casserole standing between them on the table. They hadn't bothered pulling out the plates. It turned out he was rather lazy when it came to dishes, and it seemed easier to just stick two forks in the caserolle, and _voila_. It was charmingly disordered.

"We had every nosy pair of middle-aged eyes on us by the time she was done telling me off... Hey, stop laughing. It was dreadful!"

"See, this is why I _don't _date," she exclaimed, pointing her fork at him with a slightly amused glint in her eyes. "It's just a whole lot of misunderstandings and expectations not being met. And not to mention the embarrassment."

He rolled his eyes. "It's not that bad. Plus all the bad dates are forgotten once you really connect with someone. If you don't try and fail, you will never know what it's like to succeed."

She watched him with raised eyebrows as he chewed meticulously.

"Since when did you turn into the never-wavering optimist?"

"I believe it was around the time you turned into a grumpy, old prude."

"I am certainly not a grumpy, old _prude_," she called indignantly, reaching into the casserole for another taste.

"Come on," he laughed, one of those rare occasions where his strangely perfect teeth showed. "You don't give any guy a chance. You've condemned dating without ever going on a real one, and you haven't had any fun in ages."

"How do you know how much fun I've had?"

"Oh yeah, when's the last time you got some?"

She gaped at him as his shoulders shook with amusement.

"I... That is... You... _hmpf_!"

She glared at him in indignation as he smirked smugly, enjoying his sweet victory.

"It's not like I'd run from my trainwreck of a relationship and straight into some...some... booty call."

Her glare grew fiercer when he guffawed at her comment.

"Stop laughing at my, you buffoon."

"You said _booty call_," he chuckled, shaking his head repeatedly. "I never thought the day would come... the glorious day when I would hear Head Girl Virgin Extraordinair say booty call."

"Well guess what," she snapped, putting her lips into an unintentional pout. "Not so virgin anymore!"

"Shame." He grinned, digging into the casserole again.

She watched him bend forwards, a lock of blonde hair falling into his eyes as he reached down. He pursed his lips together and rubbed them slightly against each other in a contemplating look as he studied the food they had managed to whip together somehow.

"Are you planning to return to London?" she asked curiously before licking her fork clean.

"No," he answered simply, still bowed forward, preventing her from seeing his face.

"No? Seriously?"

"Quite."

"But it's London," she protested. "Practically everyone from Hogwarts lives or works in the near vicinity. It's where we spent years of our life fighting for our world."

"Exactly."

She fixed him an annoyed look.

"How can you be so careless about not returning?"

"I don't have any friends there, my family has been gone for a long time. There's nothing there for me to return to," he told her, looking up to meet her gaze.

He shrugged indifferently, but she was certain she saw a flash of something in his large eyes.

"I still can't comprehend how you can say you'll never return. It's just...beyond me," she said, shaking her head. "Hey, you're hogging my part of the food. Get onto your own side!"

"I never said I would _never_ return, I said it wasn't in my plans. But as we both know, plans can change," he commented. "And this isn't divided fairly. Your part is fuller."

"But certainly you would know if it's even likely that you will return. My part is fuller cause you've eaten as much as a bloody Hippogriff, you nitwit."

"I can never say never, Granger. I used to do that a lot, and I've already contradicted half those nevers. For one I'm sitting here having dinner with you, acting like a civilized human being. Secondly, I betrayed my family, something I swore I would never, ever do. And thirdly, you've had just as much as me, if not even more!"

"I suppose I've contradicted some of my nevers too. Like falling for your slick charm and exchanging spit with you. And are you even hungry, or are you just complaining for the fun of it?"

"My charms are irresistible to any human female, regardless of age and supposed morals. And why do you care if I'm hungry or not? It's a matter of principle, woman."

"Oh my, aren't I just lucky to be blessed with your sacred presence. I don't see any of these women nearby."

She craned her neck and pretended to be searching for the invisible hoard of women.

"I've already shagged them all."

"Git," she laughed, throwing a pea at him which he elegantly dodged.

He just smirked in reply, continuing to munch on the now slightly cold food. Eventually, Hermione cleared the casserole off the table, cleaned it with a very well rehearsed spell and summoned the ice cream, all within a frighteningly small amount of time. She turned towards the couch in his living room, where he had parked himself firmly in the far corner. A loud whistle caught his attention, and when he looked up the ice cream was heading towards him at an alarming speed. Hermione laughed loudly as he barely caught it with the tip of his fingers and swore furiously.

"I thought you were a seeker," she remarked lightly, smiling good naturely as she sat down next to him.

"Yeah, seeker, not keeper," he answered, taking the spoon from her hand.

They ate in silence for a long while, each keeping to their own thoughts, though neither's mind strayed far from the person sitting next to them.

"So, when are you leaving?" he asked then, stabbing his spoon into the slowly melting ice cream.

"When it feels right."

She licked her spoon clean, savoring the delicious taste on her tongue.

"How very vague of you."

She glared at him, swallowing her latest bite. "I just want to make sure I don't scream at Ron the second I see him."

"What's so wrong with screaming? Maybe you need to react a bit. It doesn't sound like you actually have yet."

"I don't do those kind of things. It's not _me_. I don't scream, or yell, or even speak impolitely to most people."

His eyebrow rose higher as she spoke. "I take it I'm the exception?"

Hermione shot him a sheepish grin, pulling the box in his grip closer. "Suppose you are. Don't you feel special?"

"If I'm the only one who can make you act human, then yes I do feel special."

"I bed your pardon," she exclaimed, forgetting the ice cream she was trying to dig up. "I act like a human being around everyone."

"Never arguing or yelling or forgetting your manners is not human, Granger," he spoke, his voice a deep rumble forcing her to suppress small shivers. "Manners are a mask, and a quite necessary one at that, but they are also made to come off at some point."

"I just think people deserve my respect," she defended, her shoulders falling slightly.

"No, people deserve to see _you_, not some boring clone where you've hidden the most interesting parts of yourself in fright of offending the public."

He scraped the bottom of the box clean with his spoon and threw it aside as his comment sunk in. Were anyone even interested in anything beyond the professional business woman, the cordial neighbour and the one they small talked with in the elevator? She frowned as she fixed her gaze on him, slightly shaken by the sudden realisation that he really was interested in knowing her, on a level going deeper than anyone else had ever bothered to dig. There was something about the fact that the most unlikely person in this world, both wizard and muggle, wanted to know her good sides and bad, her passion and her mind; it excited her to a point she had never reached before.

He must have felt her gaze on his, as he soon stopped guiding the spoon towards his mouth and looked up to meet her slightly amazed stare. Perhaps he misinterpreted her expression, or perhaps not. Either way, he grinned mischievously before changing the direction of the spoon, raising his eyebrow challengingly at her in the process. Her mind went comfortably numb as she kept her eyes locked with his, but a sudden roaring of flames made her jump in alarm.

"Hey, mate, you're late," someone called, but it seemed they were only calling through the fire, not actually bothering to stick their head in it.

"Oh shit," he exclaimed, shooting her an apologetic look. "I'll be right there."

She gave him a reassuring smile as she got off the couch, following in his tracks as he found his shoes and headed towards the door.

"See, these are the occasions where you're allowed to be mad," he told her, smiling sideways at her as he held the door open.

"Why would I be? You obviously had a plan with someone that you forgot. Should I throw a tantrum because I'm not the only person in the world, would that make you happy?"

He shook his head. "You really are very different from any girl I've ever met, Granger."

He left her with a widening smile by her own gate, her mind working at an alarming speed to analyze his parting line. It left her in such a daze she didn't even see someone standing by her front door until they gave a tiny cough. Hermione nearly jumped a mile, her hand reaching over her racing heart in an effort to calm down.

"Oh, I'm sorry," a woman somewhere in her 40s laughed. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"That's alright. I was a bit lost in my own world," Hermione reassured her, giving a polite smile.

"You're Hermione?"

She nodded wearily, and pushed her door open, trying not to stare too quizzically at the foreign woman.

"I'm Ella Lewbell," she said loudly, following Hermione inside quite uninvited, and then added rather unnecessary; "Lola's mother."

"Oh hi, pleasure to meet you."

Hermione beamed and held out her hand, but Ella eyed it in slight disdain.

"Yes...likewise," she replied unconvincingly.

"May I help you?"

Hermione found this woman's presence rather unnerving. She just stood there, her critical gaze following every inch of the small living room they resided in.

"I know that you are a personal friend of Draco Mason, who my daughter went on a highly successful date with."

Right.

"And if you would put in a good word for her, that would definitely by very much appreciated by my entire family. They are so perfect together, and such a wonderful opportunity wasted would be preposterous."

Hermione's eyebrows shot skywards. "Look, Mrs Lewbell, I don't even know your daughter. And even if I did, he's not a person who takes orders from anyone. If he wants to continue his relationship with Lola, he will, if he doesn't, there's nothing I can do about it."

"But surely, not even you can overlook this grand opportunity," the woman remarked in exasperation.

"I'm afraid I don't understand which opportunity you're referring to," Hermione replied in honest, feeling rather confused at the turn this conversation was taking.

"Draco Malfoy is the only pureblooded wizard in this town, let alone in this part of the country. I refuse to let my youngest daughter marry anything less, a thought that is nothing short of preposterous. Of course, I don't expect you to understand..."

Hermione's blood froze. "What makes you think he's a Malfoy?"

"Oh, please, Ms. Granger. I am not a moron. I have had my eyes on him for years, followed him in every article I could find. I could not believe my luck when he suddenly showed up on my doorstep!"

As Ella spoke, her face lit up, though in a slightly more manic way than Hermione appreciated. Her presence had reached beyond unnerving by this point, and the nerve of this woman was beginning to flare a certain anger in the pit of her stomach.

"I am afraid I can't help you," Hermione replied coldly, trying to keep her anger in check.

"I do not expect someone of your own heritage to understand how important it is to keep the pureblooded families just that; pureblooded. They are the only true wizards, the ones worthy of the powerful gift of magic. It is of outmost importance that our lines of pure blood merge to one and continue on."

Hermione had been standing completely still as Ella spoke in a strong voice, the anger she felt getting harder to contain by the second. Ella stood tall, waiting for her reply while staring down on the shorter woman with badly disguised disgust.

"Get out."

"Excuse me?"

"I said; Get out!", Hermione bellowed. "Get out of my home, right this moment."

"I have never!"

Ella looked severely offended, her nose now pointing towards the ceiling.

"How dare you come into my home and insult me with your patronising speeches. I have no intention of luring my friend into an arranged marriage so you can preserve your precious lineage," she added fiercely, pulling up to her full height.

"Don't you dare speak to me that way, you lowly mu—"

The rest of her voice was drowned out by the sound of the front door banging open, hitting the wall with an earth shattering bang.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

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**A/N:** Hey everyone. Hope you've all been enjoying DH as much as I have (though in my mind the epilogue never happened. And might I just add: RECEDING HAIRLINE? I beg your pardon!). Anywho. I hope most people have finished it and is ready for more fanfiction to embark upon, even if this fic is even more AU than it was before DH came along.

Thanks everyone for the reviews, especially rid3r chick, who wrote a very thorough one that I enjoyed immensely. Also thanks to 1HarryPotterFan, amrawo, The Princess Wolf,Luvs-Zac-Efron, cmtaylor531 and carly for their contributions :D.


	12. The Naughty

**Disclaimer:** What?! It's not mine? I'm not making any money? I've been scammed, I say, scammed!

* * *

_Chapter 12 / The Naughty_

Hermione saw him tower in the doorway, looking even taller than he already was. He looked every bit as intimidating as he had back in the time of war, his grey eyes still holding the ability to cloud over and resemble the sky during a raging storm.

"What the _bloody_ hell is going on?" he repeated icily, taking a step forward.

She nearly backed away on instinct, but held herself together, the adrenaline caused by her flaming anger still keeping her from curling up into a ball.

"I was merely introducing your friend to the finer principles of..."

"Oh I know exactly what you were doing," he hissed in an alarmingly cold voice. "And you better stop it this very instant."

"Draco, dear..."

"I am done with the part of my life where my parent's blood dictated my life, and I will not tolerate your meddling in my personal life, nor will I tolerate you harassing friends of mine."

"You can't honestly mean that you care about this ...thing? She's a... you know... m-"

"Get. Out. Of. My. House," Hermione shrieked in frustration, banging her fist against the nearby staircase. "I will not let you stand in my home and insult myself and my parents. Leave, before I put my training to good use."

Ella looked uncertain for a moment, and he nodded at her gravely.

"I would take that quite seriously. I have helped train her myself, and I doubt you could muster up enough knowledge for a simple shielding spell in time or at all," he said in a sugary sweet tone. "Quite ironic, isn't it?"

Ella looked at him confusion as he pushed her towards the door.

"Draco, you're making a grave mistake. Our family is a very well respected pureblo-"

She was once again cut off as he slammed the door in her face, his chest heaving heavily as he turned back towards her.

"Miranda fetched me."

"She shouldn't have," she said in a hushed voice, feeling completely humiliated.

"Yes she should."

"Malfoy, it's not that big of a deal..."

"Will you stop being trying to be untroubled by everything?" he asked in exasperation. "The woman barged into your home, bothering you about getting Lola with me and was probably more than just a little bit insulting in regards to your lineage."

She wrapped her hands around herself, fighting hopelessly to keep the tears back. It had been such a long time since she felt the humiliation of being looked down upon, to be deemed unworthy of her magical peers. It was like having a closed wound ripped open, searing just as badly as it did when it was new.

She hadn't cried over this in years, and she felt silly for letting that old bat bring her to the brink of them again, but the fight against them was a losing one, and they soon broke free and spilled down her cheeks still flushed from anger and embarrassment. When his arms closed around her, she was too weak to even think of fighting it. All she did was lean into his embrace, her head falling onto his shoulder as she cried silently. His warmth enveloped her, comforting her along with his hands running calmly up and down her back.

"Are you alright?" he muttered against her hair.

"No," she gulped, getting frustrated by her own lack of control. It was as if Ella had unlocked everything inside of her. Every hopeless, worthless thought pushed her tears out and down onto his shirt.

She heard a muffled "hang on", before the familiar sensation of being pushed through an invisible tube sent her to the middle of his living room.

"Please, Granger, don't let that horrible excuse for a woman get to you like this," he said, taking her face into his hands and forcing her to look him in the eyes. "She's clueless. All she has to care about is her pure blood, because it is all she has achieved in life. It's all she has to boast about."

She felt his light touch on her cheeks, not even blinking as he held her gaze firmly.

"She hasn't seen blood been spilt, seen how it's just as sickeningly red no matter who it came from. She has never fought for a cause worth fighting for, never sacrificed a thing in her life for a greater purpose. She knows nothing about the worth of a human life, knows nothing about standing united together, about the loyalty and sense of belonging it produces."

He traced a tear with the back of his thumb, as if mapping out its journey.

"Granger, don't you see that it's all ignorance? They don't _know_. They just don't know that who you choose to be and what you choose sacrifice everything for is so much more important than what you were born."

"Were you ignorant?" she asked softly, not daring to move an inch in case his soothing touch disappeared.

"I was the most ignorant of them all," he said, a grim smile passing on his lips. "I was never faced with choices, until my 6th year when I was forced to make a decision so huge it nearly crushed me. My blood could not help me, my genes could not help me. Only my choices and other's sacrifice could help me. Dumbledore sacrificed so many things, Snape sacrificed so many things... Just to prevent my decision from making me a cold-blooded murderer."

"So you learned to sacrifice."

"I learned that my sacrifice was all I could give. And in the end, I gave my relationship with my family to help give our world a second chance," he muttered. "Blood is a triviality in comparison to what we all, in unison, gave in our fight to save what we all treasured."

"There really is more to you than that dimwitted expression of yours give you credit for," she said, a ghost of a mischievous smile flickering across her lips.

"My dimwitted expression?! You little witch," he growled, hopelessly grasping after her as she wriggled out of his grip.

She laughed noisily as she raced up the stairs, knowing he was right on her tail. The first door to appear was on the right, and she darted inside, realising too late that it was his bedroom. She tried to barricade the door as she heard him coming up the stairs, but she didn't have much of a chance. Her decision was to back away, and only barely managed to do so before the door burst open.

"Rude little witch," he said, a small twitch at the corner of his mouth giving him away.

She grinned at him, putting up her most innocent expression.

"But no worries," he proclaimed, closing the door behind him. "I have the perfect punishment."

Her eyes widened at his words, a flicker of worry licking across her chest like a scalding tongue, making her heart beat at enormous speed.

"After all, the score is not settled, is it?" he smirked, coming closer. She did not budge. "I am the only one who has been blinded, am I not?"

She swallowed and nodded, then gasped as a muttered spell rendered her blindfolded in a matter of seconds. Her breathing became shallow as she listened intently to his footsteps, coming closer, then backing away, thudding against the wooden floor. She managed to avoid a startled jump as his breath tickled her ear quite suddenly. His lips were barely touching it as he spoke in a low whisper.

"Your turn."

Slightly confused, she was about to voice her question, when she was suddenly rendered quite speechless. His lips had moved from her ear, traveling slowly downwards, barely touching her skin as they went. Her question had vanished the exact moment they made contact with the tender flesh of her neck, the soft warmth of them setting every inch they touched on fire. The low moan escaped her involuntarily, the loss of her sight heightening the exquisite torture of his touch. She felt him grin wolfishly against her neck, the tip of his tongue drawing circles on hot flesh.

He muttered again against her neck, "Your turn."

* * *

_Oh... BUGGER_!

She clapped her hand over her eyes, praying to God what she saw was just because of the groggy state of mind you always had as you left a particularly vivid dream. But, alas, the silk sheets were still wrapped around her naked legs, a voice not her own was still humming tunelessly in company with running water and the distinct smell of male cologne seeped from the adjoined bathroom.

Her fingers parted slightly and she peaked between them in uncertainty, but could not see anyone nearby. She felt disoriented and dazed, and not to mention confused. Removing her hand from her eyes, she pulled up on her elbows, looking around in growing concern. It was when the humming turned into singing that the voice triggered memories from the previous night and she closed her eyes in comprehension.

Images flashed before her eyelids; The two of them wrapped together, nails scratching, unmistakable noises resonating through the air of his bedroom, hands roaming with no boundaries. Everything had been so intense, and just so much _more_ than she could ever have imagined. But she could not hide the fact that she felt ashamed. Weren't they supposed to be friends?

She couldn't face him, not now.. not like this. As she heard the water being shut off, she wrapped the sheet around her naked body, flung herself out of his bed and darted towards the door. To her relief, she got out just in time. She hadn't had time to search for any of her clothes, but the emerald silk sheet was doing just fine at the moment, as long as she kept it out of the way as she sprinted down the stairs.

Her plan was to bolt for the front door in a desperate escape, but she came to an abrupt halt at the bottom of the staircase, her wavering gaze having caught something quite unwanted under the embarrassing circumstances.

"I'm a bit confused. I think he's usually the one to sneak out the morning after," a dark haired man commented, having turned towards his shorter companion.

"I had that distinct impression, yes," the reply sounded, rather amused, from the second inhabitant of the living room.

Hermione's mouth stood agape, not a single sound able to pass her lips as the shock spread to every muscle, rendering it numb and useless.

"Granger, you bloody coward," his voice thundered from upstairs, and panic added itself to the whirl of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

But there was no time to run, no time to escape. She could only watch in horror as he came darting around the corner from his bedroom door, and saw her standing at the bottom of the stairs. What he could not see from his angle, however, were the two amused bystanders further inside the living room.

"I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave and noble, not cowardly and spineless. You couldn't even be bothered to fetch your clothes?" he bellowed as he started descending the stairs, wearing nothing but his jeans.

"You worthless piece of ferret arse," she cried back, overcome with embarrassment.

"That is not even close to what you were moaning in my ear last night, love." He smirked, and then mimicked her low purr of _Draco_.

Her cheeks blazed, and she wanted nothing more than to run for her life.

"Are you determined to embarrass me completely?" she asked coldly, giving the two blokes a quick glance where they stood, staring wide-eyed at the scene unfolding.

"Embarrass you? I've seen you blind-folded and naked, I doubt you could be more exposed," he commented as he reached the foot of the stairs.

Hermione put her head in her one free hand and groaned unhappily, and was immediately preceded by load guffaws of laughter from the two onlookers. His head snapped up immediately, and his eyes widened as he found a larger crowd of occupants than he expected.

"What in the name of Merlin," he exclaimed, moving discreetly sideways towards Hermione. "Steven, is there any particular reason why you're in my house... quite... _uninvited_?"

"We just came to check on you, mate," the one presumably named Steven replied.

"Yeah, you ran off so suddenly," his friend continued. "We just wanted to see if you were alright."

"But apparently, you're more than just alright."

Draco rolled his eyes, and she felt his hand on her hip pushing her further behind his back.

"We were wondering where you ran off to," one of them said, giving a short laugh. "And it seems to have been a damsel in distress."

His friend grinned broadly. "A quite _willing_ damsel, by the looks of it."

"Hey!" Hermione boomed, her voice signaling that she did not take it lightly. "You might be used to dimwitted pushovers who couldn't care less about you degrading them, but I don't intend to stand for it."

It must've looked quite ludicrous, standing there giving them a moral speech with Draco's bedsheet wrapped around her otherwise naked body. But they both looked quite stricken, and it was evident that they realised she was not someone to mess with.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

"He's a nice lad. Just a bit cheeky," Steven said with a warning look towards his friend.

Her face softened slightly, knowing it wasn't meant to offend her. She turned towards Draco with an apologetic grimace, but what met her was a look of unmistakable pride.

"Well, Granger. These are my – very polite and well-mannered – friends; Steven and Alwyn," he said somberly. "Steve and Al, this is know-it-all bookworm.. I mean... Hermione"

She scrunched her face into a grimace and stuck her tongue childishly out at him.

"Yes, thank you, Mister Arrogant Snob," she retorted, hoisting the sheet further up on her chest. She gave a wry smile. "If I'd know you had invited people over, I would have dressed up for the occasion."

Her comment was met with appreciative snorts of laughter from the two visitors and a familiar smirk from the man half covering her from view.

"... Or at least put on clothes at all," she added as an afterthought, earning more amusement from his friends.

"Well, it's our fault for just barging in," Al said, his tone somewhat remorseful.

"Oh, no. I was just about to leave anyway," she assured them, moving out from behind Draco.

His reflexes were too fast for her, and he grabbed onto her wrist, holding her back.

"I was thinking I'd make breakfast," he said, catching her eyes for a fleeting second.

That was something she had no intention of enduring. An awkward breakfast with her one night stand, who happened to also be her friend née enemy. It was simply too complicated.

"Some other time,€" she promised, and then blushed when she realised what she had implied.

He rose his eyebrow, making her eye him sternly, trying to get across that she had no intention of repeating it. He gave a low chuckle before he released her and gave her rear a light pat. She gave a surprised shriek before swatting him in return. To hold back her laughter proved quite impossible, and it trilled out before she knew it. He smiled warmly at her as she waved to the other two, turned on the spot and apparated into her own living room.

* * *

Later that day she was quite appropriately dressed, but her thoughts were no where near appropriate. Her mind kept revisiting certain activities, and now that she had some distance from it all, she was rather perplexed. If she was perfectly honest with herself – something she had gradually been forced to be throughout the day – she had never felt or done anything like it. It had been a simple act, no fancy tricks or moves, but somehow it had moved her more than anything else ever had. There was something about him; something so intense, something in him yearning for intimacy.

What had gradually entered her thoughts, and against her will at that, was something so profusely scary that she tried to block it out as much as possible; It hadn't been just sex, it had been way more intimate. It wasn't meaningless. It could hardly have felt more meaningful, in fact. And that was something she had issues accepting, because she had told herself from the very first kiss that whatever they had was just friendship. Even this morning, she had been entirely sure that it was friendship, nothing more and nothing less. But to say that she had doubts about this now would be an understatement. When she had talked to Ginny over the floo, all she could think about was his piercing eyes. When she read a copy of the Daily Prophet borrowed from Miranda, her mind dwelled on his hands, his smile, the way he touched her, physically and mentally. When she tidied the house, the smell of him overpowered everything else, the memory of him on her making her lightheaded.

It was daunting. No, actually.. it was absolutely horrifying. Being with Ron had been scary enough. A romantic relationship with him had been uncertain territory for her, something she didn't know all the answers to. They had to make it up as they went, take things as they came along, and in the process they had made a number of mistakes. She knew their relationship had been dysfunctional, on many levels. Sometimes it had been more like a strong friendship than anything else, and she had, from time to time, wondered if that's what it was meant to be.

Ron's infidelity had only been the last mistake in a long line of mistakes, and it had been one she couldn't get past. Such a strong betrayal of trust was something she couldn't forgive, and definitely not forget. But even through all the mistakes, she suspected that being with Draco would be even more difficult than being with Ron had ever been. They pretty much always argued, other people would never accept them, he had no wish to return to London and they would soon be separated. Getting even the slightest of feelings for her ex-enemy would mean trouble, major trouble. But she never knew trouble could be so sexy.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks everyone for reviews. I can't believe I actually reached 100! It's amazing :D I love you people! I don't have time right now to name everyone who reviewed on Chapter 11, but you know who you are and I am so e-hugging you right now. :P

Sorry about skipping the good parts :P I am just a very bad smut-writer, and decided to rate this one T. If you think the content is too 'steamy' for the T rating, let me know and I'll change it to M. I haven't written anything graphic about sex, but there are mentions, so I want to know if people find too much for the rating.


	13. The Reunion

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Harry Potter. ... How many times do you need me to write this, Professor?

**A/N:** I am so very, truly sorry for updating so slowly. I wasn't even aware it had been this long. It has just not been an easy chapter. For some reason, it's taken me some work to get down on paper, and I've been gone for a few days fixing up my new place, plus I've been doing a lot more things with my mum these days since I have to go back to uni soon. Anyway. Enough excuses. It's finally time for Chapter 13. :)

* * *

_Chapter 13 / The Reunion_

She had every intention of turning him away, of appearing disinterested and cold when he came around her house the next day. Unfortunately for her, the presence of Draco Malfoy had started to give her chronically weak knees. She had to get that checked. She suspected a dubious potion slipped into her drink.

Her intentions were immediately reconsidered as he entered the living room, his hair looking delectably messy. She stood up, determined to show him she felt nothing...nothing at all. But that turned out to be quite difficult, because the fact that she _did_ feel a whole lot became apparent when he placed his hands softly on her cheeks, placing a tender kiss on her lips in greeting.

To try to explain everything that happened in her body at that moment would only sound like a pathetic attempt to be poetic. Either way, it left her completely dazed and she remained with her eyes closed for several seconds. When she felt strong enough to open them she found him looking down upon her, wrinkles of a smile framing his eyes.

"Sorry about Steve and Al," he said as his eyes glittered in amusement.

"It's fine," she laughed, pushing one of her curls back into place. "The embarrassment has pretty much passed. It was quite funny, now that I think about it."

"They're a bit inconsiderate at times, but really great lads," he assured her, and she felt his hand follow the contour of her arm before lacing her fingers softly with his own. "Wizards too."

"I take it they're not Slytherins."

"How did you know?" he asked dryly.

"Well, it might be the total lack of tact, and the refreshing lack of arrogance."

She smiled as he tugged on her arm, leading her towards the exit.

"Hufflepuffs the both of them. Couple of years older than us," he explained as she followed quite obediently. "Come to dinner with me?"

"Sure, I'm starved," she nodded, closing the door behind them with her free hand. "Do they know who you are?"

"Yeah, they're the only ones I've told. And then somehow the Lewbells know. Al and Steve remembered me from Hogwarts anyway. Keeping it a secret was pointless."

"Miranda knows too," Hermione said in a hushed voice, shooting him an apologetic look. When he looked back in surprise, she hurried to explain. "I had to talk to someone. I was so frustrated about our argument, and it was just so good to talk about it all. But she didn't take it bad or anything."

"No, the people who know haven't taken it badly," he admitted. "The lads both know what I've done in the war."

"Did they fight?" she asked as they turned, following the road into town.

"Ah no," he said, shaking his head. "They both had reasons for leaving the war behind. Al's sister was sick and needed to be escorted out of the most dangerous areas. Steve has a magical injury that can't be healed, and his eyesight is quite bad in the dark, which would have been a huge disadvantage. He chose not to risk it all, since his girlfriend was pregnant at the time."

She nodded solemnly, feeling his thumb running softly along hers.

"Some part of me thinks running from it all is a cowardly choice, but wouldn't we if he had the chance? For some of us, that just wasn't an option. As Harry Potter's friend, you could hardly run out. For me, it was either to stand by my parents, or to fight against them. Staying neutral was never an option."

They had reached the town square as he spoke, and he lead the way past the fountain and towards a charming wooden house opposite of where they had descended into the wizarding pub. The entrance had ornaments carved into the dark wood, some of it painted in dark red in a wonderful pattern.

"A table for two, please", Draco announced as they reached the hostess, who looked up with a bright smile.

"This way", she told them, clutching her clipboard as she ventured through many whiteclothed tables.

Some of them were occupied by dining couples, friends and families, some of whom looked up as they passed. A free table was presented them in the very right hand corner, and the hostess left them with a slight nod of her head.

"Sometimes I wish I had the chance to run", Hermione admitted after they had seated. "But even if I had the choice, I don't know if I would have chosen to bail. It's just not in my nature"

"No, I suppose not. Gryffindor and all", he quipped, smiling gently.

"Sometimes I envy those who never had to see what we saw, but in many ways I think it has made us all wiser"

"It definitely changed me", he smiled, picking up the menu. "See anything you want?"

"The steak looks really good"

"I prefer the veal, I think", he pondered, his eyes sweeping over the list.

"Leave it to you to eat baby meat", she teased, forcing back a smile.

"Just be glad I don't eat your precious house elves"

She gave a squeak of surprise, putting the menu down on her plate.

"That is disgusting"

"Tell me about it", he said, pulling a grimace. "I've nearly lost my appetite while imagining eating that thing; Kreature"

He gave a shudder, and she glared at him from across the table.

"House elves are very loyal and magically gifted creatures", she chastised, before picking up the menu again and then adding with a scrunch of her nose, "And they probably taste as chewy as slugs."

He laughed incredulously at her unexpected joke and watched as she ducked down behind the menu, obviously in shock over what she had brought herself to say about her beloved house elves. The conversation between them came to a halt as he ordered from the menu, taking care to also order dessert and a surprisingly cheap white wine.

"How's Potter?" he asked quietly, when the meal had long since been put in front of them.

She looked up in surprise, giving him a questioning glance over the lit candle.

"I thought you couldn't care less."

"Oh for Merlin's sake, I don't _hate_ Potter. Now, don't give me that appraising look! I don't love him either, the dislike just faded over time."

"Does he know how you feel about him?"

His eyes were wide and frightful when his head snapped up.

"Granger, will you stop. You make us sound like a pair of fruits. It's not like I'm passionately in love with the Golden Boy, I just happen to tolerate him."

She rolled her eyes. "Just answer the bloody question, ferret-face"

"No, he doesn't know that I can actually stay in his presence without getting the urge to claw out his eyes," he said haughtily. "And I'd like for it to stay that way."

She just glared at him, but soon noticed small wrinkles in the corner of his eyes, and her gaze softened.

"Harry's doing good", she finally answered, allowing a smile onto her lips. "He moved in with Ginny a year ago, and they're as close as ever. And he ended up becoming an Auror, which I guess none of us expected. We all thought he was fed up with running around after the 'bad guys', but I suppose that's just who he is. He could never just sit still and watch someone else save the world"

She smiled affectionately, actually finding Harry's hero complex one of his most appealing qualities. There was hardly any other person alive with a bigger capacity for caring and empathy, making him a man who couldn't stand sitting idly by as people were hurt.

"It is quite spectacular that he still wants to do that after spending half his childhood being forced into war," Draco acknowledged. "But someone has to do it, and I suppose Potter already came to terms with his role years ago."

She nodded solemnly. "He's happy with it, you know. When he talks about a mission, or case or just something funny that happened around the office, his face lights up and he shows so much excitement about it. It's not something he _has_ to do anymore, it's something he wants to do."

"After seeing everything he did to save everyone else, even I can admit he deserves it."

"How generous of you, Mr. Malfoy," she quipped with a crooked grin, making him turn the corners of his mouth downwards into a displeased grimace.

"Yeah, I'm going to have to ask you to keep quiet about that."

She chuckled warmly, raising the glass of white wine to her lips.

"You basically want me to shut up about all your good sides?"

"Well... yes."

"So you'd rather have me portray you as elitist, arrogant, egocentric and ferrety?" she asked lightly.

"You forgot irresistible," he commented helpfully, smirking unmistakably.

"In your dreams," she laughed, trying so very hard to suppress the unwelcome leap of excitement his smirk caused.

"Indeed," he just remarked, giving her a knowing look.

Oh, this was getting worse by the minute. She was sure her cheeks had caught flame by now. As one waitress suddenly showed up to clear the table from dinner and another one followed with dessert, she tried furiously to calm down, taking several deep breaths.

"Well, Granger. How does it feel to have been on your first successful date?" he asked pouring more wine in her nearly empty glass. "I propose a toast for that particular occasion"

She choked on her creme brulé, falling into a furious coughing fit. Tears sprung in her eyes as she heaved for breath.

"Wh... I...You... - Sorry?"

"Date, Granger," he repeated slowly, as if talking to a child. "Two people mutually agreeing to meet in a romantic setting, in this case dinner."

"Are you serious?" she croaked, gripping her glass desperately as if it was her lifeline.

She gulped down two large sips of the alcoholic beverage trying to calm the nerves that pulsated dangerously under her skin.

"You're supposed to be nervous _before_ the date, not after the one you brought told you it was a successful one," he commented dryly as he held his glass up, still waiting for her to join him in the toast.

"You mean I've been on a date all night and I didn't know?" she asked in panic, staring at him with wide eyes. "Fuck, I don't even remember what I said. What am I wearing? Did I put on make up before I left? Oh my God, Draco, I didn't put on make up. Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Granger..."

"And I ate like a hippogriff, dessert and everything. Oh great Merlin, there's food on my face isn't there?"

"Granger!"

"I insulted you! I went on my first real date and I insulted my date...on purpose. I'm the worst date ever!"

"HERMIONE!", he bellowed, making her head – and everyone else's for that matter – snap up in surprise. "Will you bloody toast me before my arm loses all its blood, falls off and has to be regrown?"

She started in realisation when his hand gave a threatening tremble and she rushed to clink her glass almost too forcefully against his. The she tipped it against her lips and drank the rest in one swallow.

"Now; breathe."

She did as she was told, moving her hand in a soothing motion in sync with her breathing.

"Let's leave," he said calmly, rising from his chair to hold his hand out for her.

"Why?" she asked suspiciously, giving him a weary look.

"Because, Granger, we ate all the food, drank all the wine and paid the bill."

She blushed quite generously, chastising herself for her out of control paranoia. Okey, so she had been on a date with Draco Malfoy. There was no reason to panic.He was still with her wasn't he? He hadn't run out screaming in horror over her terrible manners and poor communication skills.Actually, his hand was currently at her back guiding her towards the exit of the restaurant. Her attempt to block out his touch was futile.

Cool air soothed her flaming cheeks once their feet touched the pavement outside. She regretted not bringing a coat, but blocked out the surprisingly chilly breeze and focused instead on the warmth radiating from the man walking beside her.

"Do you know what this means?" she asked gravely after long moments of comfortable silence.

He shook his head, giving her the same serious gaze back. She beckoned him closer and watched him lean in against her.

"I fucking shagged you _before_ the first date," she cried loudly, making him jump in surprise.

He grinned sheepishly at an older couple giving them odd glances as they passed by. Hermione looked around in horror and then lowered her voice into a low murmur.

"I read somewhere that one should – no exceptions – always wait for the third date," she said worriedly. "Look, I told you I'm clueless. I'm messing up the order of things!"

"Believe it or not, Granger, the world has not hidden a rule by rule dating book that everyone else but you knows about," he stated dryly. "Nothing is written in stone. People are different, relationships come about differently, they evolve differently. There's no _right_ way to do any of this."

She looked at him doubtfully. "So you're saying everyone is fumbling around blindly?"

"Pretty much."

"I can do that!" she said, releasing an audible sigh.

"No kidding."

She took no notice of his muttered reply as they stopped outside her house. Instead, she turned towards him, smiling carefully at the pale face she had never thought she would look at with anything but disdain or indifference. She couldn't for the life of her remember when taking in his features started to cause this twirl of _something_ in her stomach. A something that was neither disdain nor indifference.

"So, what you're basically saying is that I can make up my own dating rules?" she asked, biting down on the inside of her cheek in anxiousness.

"Be my guest," he smiled.

"And you would follow them?"

"I will have you know I can follow rules perfectly fine when I put my mind to it."

"In that case I just decided on my first rule," she said with a small smile, wondering where on earth she had gotten the nerve to play this little game.

He looked at her in anticipation, waiting for her to continue down this unpredictable path.

"So, rule number one in Hermione Granger's Dating Book," she begins, sounding just as if she was reciting the correct answer to a Professor's question, "explains that it would be perfectly fine – if not expected – for a certain blond Slytherin to follow a certain adorable lioness upstairs after a first date."

As silence reigned for mere seconds, she wondered how she ever got the courage to say that and was just about to get incredibly embarrassed when he gave a short groan.

"Oh good Lord, Granger. That's the best dating rule I've ever encountered," he exclaimed and she had no chance to reply before she was yanked by the hand down the pathway and into her house.

* * *

What on earth was he doing? He was just going to fetch them some breakfast they could munch on in bed, neither of them exactly willing to get out of it just to have breakfast downstairs. The problem was that he had been downstairs for ages, and she had no clue what he was up to. She swung the covers aside, shivering slightly from the sudden rush of cold, and scurried barefoot over the wooden floors towards the door.

She leaned out into the hallway, looking left and right but didn't see him anywhere. She reckoned he was down in the kitchens brewing coffee, and she ventured out of the room immediately regretting not throwing a tshirt over herself. It was turning quite cold walking around in just your underwear. When she reached the top of the stairs, she could see Draco stand completely still in her living room. Or rather, she could see his feet stand frozen to the ground, and more of him in his boxer became visible as she descended the stairs.

"Draco, are you ever intending on coming back to bed? I'm _this_ close to just going ahead without you."

She reached the bottom of the stairs just as finished speaking, giving the oddly frozen Draco a perplexed look.

"Now is _so_ not the time, love," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, looking at her quite intently.

When she remained equally confused, he started nudging his head towards something, and she looked at him as if he was going completely mad.

"I don't know what the hell is up with you, but right now I don't care. Just get out of those boxers and come back to bed."

When his head started nodding even more furiously towards something in front of him, she turned with her eyebrows raised and let out a horrified shriek that shook the entire foundation of the house. The shriek seemed to pull the entirely stunned Harry Potter – whose head was bobbing up and down in the fire – out of his state and his eyes went to her immediately.

"Harry, what are you doing in there?!" she exclaimed in horror, looking quickly over at Draco who seemed uncertain on how to handle the predicament.

"No, Hermione. What is _he_ doing in _there_?!" Harry cried back, looking positively livid.

"I don't think that's really any of your business," she retorted in a chilly tone. "There's a reason why I haven't given anyone this address."

"Yeah, so you can shag Draco Malfoy."

"So I could have some privacy. I didn't want people popping out of the fire every other second to check on me. I didn't want anyone to know where I was, so I could be alone and decide for myself when I wanted to see people. Don't you get it?"

"No apparently I don't, cause all I get right now is that you're standing her in your underwear telling Draco Bloody Malfoy to come shag you!" he bellowed angrily. "And will you put some clothes on?"

"Accio shirt," she said in a bored voice, showing off the little bit of wandless magic she had managed to teach herself.

It came darting down the stairs towards her, and she barely caught it before it went too far.

"How can you be so flippant about invading my privacy like this?" she stated angrily as she pulled the shirt over her head.

"If you had told me you were doing this, believe me, I would have thought twice about checking in," he replied icily. "I managed to get the address from your boss, after quite some rounds of persuasion. I just wanted to check on you, is that a crime now?"

"I talked to Ginny just yesterday."

"Yeah, you talked to Ginny, not me. I haven't talked to you in person for ages," he commented sulkily, and then glared at Draco.

"Harry, I'm sorry. I really am," she sighed, sitting down on the couch. "I know I should've checked in, but things have been kind of ... crazy."

"I can imagine," he replied dryly.

"I came down here thinking I'd be cut off from everyone I know, and then it turned out Draco is my neighbour."

"He's your neighbour?!"

"Yeah, you thought I brought him up here to hide from all of you?" she asked indignantly. "I had no intention of meeting anyone up here, and definitely not Draco Malfoy of all people."

"Hey," Draco exclaimed indignantly.

"Sorry," she said with a crooked smile. "How should I have known that you'd changed so drastically?"

"Changed?" Harry laughed hollowly. "Yeah, right."

Hermione set her eyes sternly at him. "You have no idea what you're speaking of, so I don't want to hear a word about it. I've been living around Draco for months now, becoming better friends with him over time, and I think I'm more qualified than you are to assess whether he's changed or not."

Harry just snorted.

"And besides; would the old Draco have just stood here watching you?" she asked dryly. "If Draco hadn't changed he would've punched your face in or hexed you ages ago."

"Yeah okey, so maybe you have a point there," he admitted reluctantly. "Look, I'm coming through."

"No, you're not," she replied forcefully, making him stop his struggles to push through the fire. "Harry, can't you just let me have my privacy, please. This is my place, where I'm picking up the pieces of my so-called life."

"I don't understand why he's the one 'helping' you, while the rest of us have to wait for you to throw a measly letter our way once in a while," he muttered resentfully, looking anywhere but at Hermione.

"Look, I'm really not trying to shut you out. I'm not. But I came here to get away for a while, and Draco happened to be here. And he also happened to listen to my confessions when I trusted him enough, and he helped me through it."

She watched her bestfriend's sulky expression with a pained grimace. When he refused to look at her, she fell down to her knees on the floor in front of him.

"No matter how much I love you, Harry, you're Ron's best friend too. And no matter how much I love Ginny, she's Ron's sister. Everyone I trust back home have a strong connection to Ron in some way, and while I know you don't mean it, you constantly remind me of him whenever I talk to you," she confessed softly. "Draco gets my mind off Ron. To be honest, I haven't even thought of Ron for weeks, and it's such a relief. Don't you get it, I'm finally moving on."

Harry's expression softened as she spoke, and he looked a bit ashamed of himself.

"What about Ron, Hermione?" he then asked quietly. "What is he going to say when he finds out about this ordeal?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Yeah, what about Ron? He moved on even before we broke up, Harry. He has no right to keep tabs on who I associate with anymore. Sure, some day we might be friends again, but he's no longer my boyfriend ... Harry, I don't know.."

She looked helpless, having issues vocalizing her thoughts and she shrugged her shoulders with a sigh.

"Potter... I know you're friends with Weasley, and you feel some sort of obligation towards him even after all this, but he did this himself. We've all seen the pictures in the Prophet. He has already moved on. Weasley made his choice, now let Hermione make her own choices. She's not doing any of this to punish you guys, she just needs to sort things out on her own for once."

Hermione gave him a bewildered, but grateful look, and nodded in agreement.

"I never planned for this to happen, and quite frankly I don't feel like discussing it with you...or anyone... and definitely not in front of the guy. The guy in question isn't supposed to hear these conversations, you know," she commented dryly.

"Well, we've already established that you make your own dating rules, Granger," he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned towards the banister.

"Not like you have objected so far, ferret-face," she replied with a raised eyebrow in his direction, and he smiled crookedly.

"Got me there, dust collector."

"Dust collector?!" she repeated incredulously. "Oh you did not just imply..."

"Oh, I so did imply," he retorted with a smirk.

"You are so dead, you man-whore!" she exclaimed getting up from the floor with one swift movement.

"I'm not a man-whore, I'm simply irresistible."

"Oh don't tempt me to find out just how resistible I can really find you, Malfoy."

"Ouch, you didn't need to go there!" he complained, looking displeased. "I'll be good."

"Harry, as amusing as you probably find this, I'm going to have to ask you to stick your head back into your own flat," she said, her back still turned to the fireplace.

There was a hint of laughter in Harry's voice as he spoke next. "Yeah, bye Hermione."

She let out an enormous sigh as his head disappeared from the fire, and she sank down onto the couch.

"God, I need a good breakfast to drown the memory of this horrible encounter," she exclaimed, throwing her hand over her eyes.

She rose reluctantly from the couch again and walked lazily towards the kitchen.

"Fuck that. I need a fantastic shag to drown the memory of this horrible encounter," he replied loudly. "But I'm not opposed to the kitchen..."

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks so very, very much to everyone who has reviews. Please do keep on reviewing, and I hope you at least liked the chapter I've been struggling so much to get on paper. At least it's one of the longest ones for you! 


	14. The Mentor

**Discl****aimer: **You know the drill: Give me an 'I', Give me a 'don't', give me an 'own'. What does that spell? I DON'T OWN!

**A/N: **GUESS WHO! I'm so so so so so so so so very sorry for taking this long! I've been in a major block, so it took ages to write this. Plus, when I had written 2 pages my laptop died and I had to get a new one, so the two pages I had struggled to get down was completely gone and I had to start a new :(

_Chapter 14 // The __Mentor_

* * *

Her head snapped up in surprise when a small, neatly wrapped package suddenly obscured her view of the book resting against her thighs. She found him standing by her chair, peering down on her as his hands were fidgeting slightly in their clasped grip. 

"Happy Birthday," he said quickly, a small, crooked smile showing briefly on his face.

"How did you know?" she asked in awe, taking the small package in her palm.

He shrugged slightly, fixing his eyes on the present instead of meeting her gaze.

"I picked up more at the Order Headquarters than you think."

"Can I open it?" she asked excitedly, looking up at him with expectation.

He raised his eyebrow questioningly.

"Of course. That's usually what presents are for," he commented, watching her remove the silver string with immense care.

She didn't take notice of the slightly dry comment, her whole attention now focused on the small object unravelling before her eyes. She stared at the silver rod with the translucent orb swirling at the end. It felt light in her palm as she moved it around in awe, staring dumbfounded at it as the orb swirled its misty grey substance.

"How...? It's a curse detector," she breathed, finally removing her eyes from it as she looked up towards him.

When he just smiled sheepishly, she turned her eyes back to the wondrous object resting in her palm.

"These are so rare, I've been trying to get one for ages. Thank you so much!"

She beamed at him as she rose quickly from her seat. With long steps she moved towards the fireplace and put the curse detector carefully down on the mantle.

"You're welcome. It's nothing big," he shrugged.

"Are you kidding me?" she exclaimed with a warm laugh. "You have no idea how long I've been searching for one just like that."

"Come have a drink with me," he suddenly said when she was working her way back to where he stood.

"Sure," she replied in surprise, giving a slight yelp when he grabbed her wrist and yanked her along.

She let him lead her out the door, feeling his hand slowly letting go of her wrist just to move downwards. His fingers ran gently along her palm before they laced with her own fingers. She looked up to find him staring straight ahead towards town, giving her a chance to study his sharp profile. It was strange how everything she used to find a distraction of symmetry in his features now seemed to compel her the most. Small quirks that used to trigger negative associations in her now seemed to be what made him so beautiful in her eyes. She found it so strange how different a person could look when you changed your opinion on them as a whole. There wasn't a thing about him she would change now. Everything about him played an equal part in why she felt so comfortable around him, why he attracted her so much.

She wasn't so certain Harry would ever see it from her point of view. To him the grey eyes were still cold and distant, and the sharp, aristocratic face still seemed hard and unwelcoming. Her friends didn't see Draco in a new light; they still saw what they had always seen. It wasn't at all strange that they couldn't understand why she would ever get involved. She fully understood how difficult it was, but she still felt a burning need to make them understand. They had always supported her, on every decision and in every aspect of her life, and the thought of losing their understanding now was completely unbearable.

"Stop thinking," he suddenly said, holding her hand tighter as he spoke.

She turned towards him again and raised her eyebrow questioningly.

"It's your birthday; give yourself a break from the never-ending worrying over things you can't change."

"How did you even know I was worrying at all?" she asked lightly. "Maybe I was thinking about my wonderful new gift."

He turned and looked at her with a disbelieving expression.

"You're not even fooling yourself with that one, love."

She shrugged, knowing it was a losing battle if she'd ever seen one.

"Worrying is my thing. It's what I do. It's what keeps my world in balance."

"I doubt the world would fall apart if you relaxed just this once."

"I wouldn't be so sure," she said gloomily, making him roll his eyes.

She tried to disguise a smile, but couldn't quite hide her amusement over his frustration.

He brought her to the barrels disguising the Wizard's Pub and muttered slowly under his breath. Seconds after he tapped one of them with his wand, the narrow staircase appeared and he gestured for her to go first. She smiled quickly and took the steps two at a time before landing with a graceful jump at the bottom. He eyed her with a distinct questioning look, but she just shrugged in answer and pulled the door open for him when he came to a halt next to her. They proceeded into the dark – and not quite clean – pub together, Draco keeping a hand at her back as he guided her towards a far corner.

He stopped her as she was about to sit down at a free table, and pointed out a table on her right.

"But that's already occupied," she replied in puzzlement, watching the figure sitting with his back to her, his back straight and his head facing straight forward.

"Yes, it is," he confirmed, but put his hand on her back nevertheless and guided her towards one of the unoccupied chairs.

Hermione remained entirely confused, as he placed her firmly into the chair. She turned around to look at him, looking for answers, but he didn't say a word.

"Happy Birthday, Ms. Granger," a voice to her left suddenly uttered.

Her head whipped towards him and her mouth fell open in complete surprise.

"Professor!" she exclaimed, a bright smile pulling on her lips. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I flooed in for this very occasion," he told her, giving a slight nod of his head towards Draco. "I was tipped off by a slightly annoying, highly persuasive ferret."

She laughed, taking in the very alive image of her mentor.

"This is…amazing. I haven't seen you in years, where have you been?" she asked, fixing her eyes on him.

"Here and there," he answered cryptically, and she noticed how his face looked more drawn than the last time she had seen him. "I rarely stay long in one place."

"I heard you quit your job, but I had no idea where you went."

He gave a brief nod at that.

"I travel to where work is, at the moment. I do not get to keep in touch with many people, but I quite enjoy it all the same."

"Plus he doesn't have to see Harry," Draco added, looking slightly amused.

"A very valid point to add to my 'pro'-list. 'No Potter' is definitely up there."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She had grown used to Snape's comments about her best friend over the time of her internship.

"Don't think for a second we've forgotten how you helped him get to Voldemort during the battle," she reminded him, sending him a sugar sweet smile.

"You are never going to let that go, are you?" he inquired, looking un-amused.

"I wasn't planning on it, no."

She grinned, leaning lazily back in her chair.

"I'll go get us drinks," Draco said after shaking his head at them. "Behave yourselves while I'm gone."

"Hey wait; I'll give you money to pay for mine," she exclaimed, reaching into the pocket of her jeans.

"Don't be stupid, Granger; it's your birthday. I'm paying for your drinks."

"I already got a gift, remember?" she protested.

"So? Who says there's to be a maximum of one gift?"

"Look, I don't like being in debt..."

"It's not debt, you daft Gryffindor. It's a gift. Something given to you for free," he said slowly, as if talking to a three year old, while he waved his hand accordingly.

"Seriously, Malfoy, you don't need – "

"Oh, will you give it up? I would like a drink before my liver starts to un-shrivel again," Snape barked, making Draco roll his eyes before heading towards the bar while Hermione chuckled madly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to deprive your liver of its alcohol," she said, crossing her arms on the table in front of her.

"I do not have many joys in life."

"Maybe you could have if you didn't shut everyone out of your life," she added smartly.

"I am not having this discussion with you again, Ms. Granger."

She smiled gently at that, remembering all the times she had tried to soften him up over a steaming cauldron. Whenever she thought she had managed to make at least a bit of headway, he'd make sure she knew he was just as cynical as he was before she started as his intern.

"You know, Ms. Granger... I am an intelligent man," he began, putting his hands up behind his head, giving her a long look. "Some would even call me very perceptive and a good judge of character -"

"I'm not going to contradict it, if that's what you're waiting for," she replied with her eyebrow raised.

" – But I would have never imagined you actually falling for Draco Malfoy," he continued, without taking notice of her statement.

She grinned sheepishly, wondering if it was really that noticeable that she found herself more than mildly attracted to Draco Malfoy.

"Look, I know it's strange..."

"Congratulations," he said, cutting her explanation short.

She watched him in utter bewilderment, and found herself starting to wonder if she was caught in some strange dream.

"I have underestimated you," he admitted, his eyes briefly falling on Draco who was still at the bar waiting for their drinks. "I never thought you were the type to see past prejudice, when it all came down to it."

She said nothing, just looked at him as he cast yet another glance towards his godson.

"I always knew Draco had the potential to break free from the boundaries set on him and think for himself, but I have always worried that the people he would have to associate with once he switched sides would not understand his transformation, and certainly not see past his sometimes hostile facade."

"To be honest, he has done all the hard work," she said, following his gaze. "He changed his ways, and he opened up. He made it impossible for me _not_ to accept him for what he really is. You should be proud of him."

Snape looked back at her, and their eyes locked for an instant. He didn't say a thing, but she knew what he wanted to say. As Draco came back towards their table with drinks in hand, his godfather nodded at her, and she was certain she saw the slightest pull at the right corner of his mouth.

"You two managed to not kill each other while I was gone?" Draco asked dryly, as he put their drinks in front of them.

"Honestly, Draco. When we managed to survive the two years of my internship, I think we can stay together for five minutes without strangling each other."

"You never know with Severus," he said, and flashed Snape a wide grin. "Well, then... I propose a toast; to Granger, who has turned out to be much less annoying and much less of a prude than I expected."

She stared at him as he raised his glass, her brows knitted firmly together. He released a nervous laugh, and sipped at his drink while looking at her over his glass.

"You thought I was a prude?" she inquired indignantly after a moment of silence.

Draco snorted ungracefully, and then coughed to hide his laugh.

"Well, I did. But you sure did prove me wrong, dear," he consoled, petting her arm softly.

"You two sicken me," Snape announced, making Draco roll his eyes.

"I'm sure you can handle happy people for just a little while longer, Severus. It is her birthday, after all."

So, because it was her birthday, Snape decided to tolerate 'happy people' for just a little while longer. She was, after all, the only intern he had taken under his wings in his entire teaching career, though he had no immediate plans to let her know that. Little Miss Granger still thought she was one in the line of many, and it was better that way. He wouldn't be able to stand the sappy sentimentalism that would follow the truth.

"I am sorry to say I must be heading off," he said about an hour later. "It was very...er...enlightening... to see the both of you."

He coughed, and stumbled awkwardly over the word 'enlightening', and then he rose from his chair in a quick motion. Hermione smiled warmly, knowing exactly what he meant but could not seem to articulate. After all, Severus Snape could not admit to being happy to see anyone, no matter who they were. She rose from her chair too, watching him grip his cane firmly.

"I'm so glad you came. Thank you, Professor," she said earnestly, holding her hand out for him.

He took it with his free hand, shook it firmly and gave a stiff nod.

"You should know that while I have been very busy travelling, I have still followed your progress, Ms. Granger. And you are doing remarkably well for yourself."

Her eyes grew wide at his words, hardly able to believe she was hearing him right.

"Thank you, sir," she answered breathlessly.

"So long, Draco," he then said, receiving a nod and a smile from his godson.

Hermione watched him as he turned his back to them and walked slowly out of the pub, leaning heavily on his cane.

"Draco, I can't believe you did this," she exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear. "I haven't seen him in so long!"

"I had to use the few contacts I have, didn't I? He's the only one I've actually kept in contact with since I moved," he admitted, swallowing the last sip of his drink. "Come, let's go."

As they walked she kept returning to what Snape had said about her and Draco. Was she really falling for him? And was it really that obvious? It was no longer a secret that she was attracted to him, but she had to admit it was moving beyond that. Just the fact that he had done this for her on her birthday made her heart soar. There was something about how he treated her, how he was so much more considerate than she could have ever imagined.

"Do you miss your job?" he suddenly asked, glancing sideways at her as they walked.

"I suppose I do," she admitted, giving a sad smile. "It's strange not going there every day. In one way it's very freeing not to have the responsibility, but I do miss it. Don't you miss working?"

"I've grown so used to this life that I don't really think of it much anymore."

She nodded, understanding how he felt.

"I used to really miss being in the Order. I missed all the action, the meetings, having a place to belong," he admitted, kicking a stone with the tip of his shoe.

"I missed it too for a while, and it's strange considering we were risking our lives so much of the time."

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"I know you would," she smiled, taking his hand in hers. "Cause that's who you are."

* * *

**A/N II:** Thanks to all reviewers, I am so sorry it took so long, but I swear the next one will come a lot sooner. Thanks for sticking with me :D 


	15. The Words

**Disclaimer:** I don't own. I don't own -dances around looking goofy- I don't ooooown!

**A/N:** I am so _giddy_ about this chapter. Everything about this makes me so giddy I can feel it bubble. I've had this idea in my head forever, and it feels fantastic to get it down on (virtual) paper. Hooray! I was totally in the zone last night so I ended up writing until 4 AM. So basically I've slept 4 hours tonight. Sheesh!

A bunch of thanks and love to elyaeru for being generally awesome and helping me choose this chapter over my NaNo novel yesterday! –Hearts-

* * *

_Chapter 15 // __The__ Words_

"Happy Birthday, sweetie!" Ginny cried, her head once again bobbing up and down in the flames of Hermione's fireplace.

"Thanks," Hermione beamed, crouching down on the floor to get on the same level as Ginny.

"I'm sorry I haven't sent you a present, but I don't really have your address, do I?" she said, somewhat accusatory. "I'll give you one when you get home, though."

"I don't need any presents. I'm just happy to hear from you guys!"

"I had thought you would be home by now, so I didn't really think about you being gone on your birthday," Ginny commented, looking a bit crestfallen. "You've been gone almost two months now, we all miss you terribly."

"I know, and I miss you too," Hermione assured her. "I just really like where my life is right now, you know. The thought of going back kind of scares me."

"I totally understand that," her friend said softly. "I wish you'd let us visit you sometime, though. It's just me and Harry. It's not like we can do much harm."

Hermione raised her eyebrow at that, thinking back to a certain meeting with a rather angry Harry.

"Oh... Harry did tell me about... you-know-who," Ginny said in a hushed voice.

"You can't seriously call Draco the same as people called Voldemort, Gin!"

Her friend huffed impatiently. "Oh, I guess not. I'll call him Earnie."

"How about just calling him Draco?" Hermione suggested dryly, stretching her foot out in front of her on the floor.

"Too much, too soon."

Hermione rolled her eyes, not really seeing how calling him Earnie would change anything.

"So, Harry told me how he found Earnie half naked in your living room," Ginny continued unabated by Hermione's obvious exasperation. "I have to say, I never expected this from you."

"I know... I can't really explain it, I –"

"I like it!"

"You're joking," Hermione said, giving a short, disbelieving laugh.

"No, seriously. You're loosening up. You're letting go and having fun," Ginny said. "I know Harry is flipping out over it, but we're speaking about Harry here. And we're talking about Earnie. It's pretty much inevitable."

"What if it's more than fun?" Hermione asked quietly, casting nervous glances over her shoulder.

"See, there's that 'too much, too soon' thing again," Ginny said, closing her eyes momentarily. "I would rather not think about you actually falling for that guy."

Hermione sighed heavily, leaning back against the couch as she faced Ginny's head in the fire. She lolled her head backwards and groaned. None of her friends understood the situation. They didn't know how she could go from being completely indifferent towards him, to suddenly not getting him out of her head. They hadn't been there, they didn't see him the way she did. And it was driving her crazy that she couldn't talk to anyone about it.

"Look, Hermione... I'm sure Earnie is just what you need right now, and I'm not going to stop you, but please think this through."

"Who is this Earnie and where do I go to punch his face in?" Draco asked, leaning against the banister as he watched the two of them suspiciously.

Hermione couldn't help but smile, meeting Ginny's eyes. The redhead seemed almost at a loss for a moment.

"Oh just this guy Hermione's been seeing," she then replied mischievously, watching Draco's grimace grow even more sour.

"Ginny," Hermione groaned loudly.

"Whoops, I have to run. Have a nice birthday."

Ginny left with a pop, leaving Hermione to scramble ungracefully to her feet.

"So, you've been seeing this Earnie guy," Draco sneered, crossing his arms over his chest rather sulkily.

"You're Earnie, dimwit," she replied in exasperation as she walked past him into the kitchen. "She just couldn't get herself to use your name."

"Oh, well in that case..." he said, immediately lightening up, "I hope you told her about the great sex."

* * *

Her eyes were shut, but she wasn't sleeping. She was trying to breathe normally and suppress any unwelcome thoughts threatening to make themselves known. Her breathing hitched when his hand once again caressed her stomach gently. Her senses were working on overdrive as he lay against her, his head resting on her shoulder, making his hair barely brush her neck. His hand was resting on her stomach, drawing nonsense patterns with feather light touches. She forced her eyes even closer together, struggling for control over her traitorous reactions.

The control slipped when his head turned the slightest fraction and sought out the warm flesh of her shoulder with moist, smooth lips. A sigh fell from her mouth, having forced itself past her barriers. She slipped lower on the bed, his head no longer at shoulder level, but instead he blew hot air against her ear, sending shivers through her suspiciously warm body.

She couldn't stand it anymore, and she turned her head before opening her eyes hesitantly. The moment she opened them she stared right into his face, his lips pulled in a warm smile, the type of smile that was always reflected in your eyes. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his handsome features as he lifted his hand slowly and stroked her hair back behind her ear, still smiling that smile that made her lightheaded.

"I love you."

The silence was earth shattering after her voice had filled the room only seconds earlier.

_What? No! I didn't say that out loud. _

She began breathing heavier, her eyes glazing over and stars began forming in her line of vision. He was no longer visible, as she closed her eyes in hopes to calm the dizziness.

_I can't have said that, I haven't even __thought__ those words for crying out loud!_

She scrambled wildly to get out of the bed, finding herself entangled in sheets as she desperately tried to remove herself from his presence.

_Fuck, I'm so mind__-bogglingly__ stupid! Where has the filter system gone? Aren't you supposed to hear the words in your head before you actually say them out loud?! Where the hell did they come from, I've never uttered those words even in my head since...forever!_

She finally detangled herself from the sheets and scurried over the cold wooden floors of her bedroom.

"Hermione!" Draco called then, flinging the sheets off himself as he sprung up from the bed.

His attempt to halt her did nothing. She ignored his call, and grabbed her wand on her dresser by the door before sprinting into her bathroom locking the door. Draco heard several spells being uttered as he reached the door and beat his hand against it repeatedly.

"Hermione, don't lock yourself in the bathroom," he cried exasperatedly.

She didn't answer; she just sunk back against the door, sliding downwards until she hit the floor with a muffled thud.

"What is this good for? You can't hide in there forever anyway, so you might as well not hide at all."

Oh how very wrong he was. She had every intention of staying in there forever. Food could always be levitated through the window, and since she was alone in there no one would care that she was stark naked.

"Hermione, come on. This isn't good for anything."

She ignored him. The simple truth was that she couldn't go out there. She couldn't face him, not after she had been so dumb. Her defence had crumbled, and she had reacted instinctively. She had said something that changed everything, which made everything horribly serious. She didn't want to see his expression of pity, hear him say that he's sorry he doesn't feel the same way. How was it even possible to just say it when you didn't even know you felt it?

* * *

Draco paced outside the door, totally at a loss of what to do. Knowing Hermione she was more than stubborn enough to stay locked up in the bathroom for a staggeringly long time. This whole thing was turning into such a mess. After calling her name a dozen more times - triggering no responses - he shuffled back into the bedroom pulling his clothes back on. He flicked his wand carelessly to make her bed in three swift movements, draping the cover elegantly over her bed. Once again, he sighed, before turning back to the bathroom door, looking at it with his brows furrowed. There was still no sound from her, and he remained standing by the door for a few moments before finally giving up.

He muttered in annoyance under his breath as he descended the stairs at a hurried pace. Instead of them both entering the kitchen for a nice breakfast, he was now sauntering in all on his own, looking around the empty kitchen. A few minutes and some annoyed grunts later he sat by the table with a mug of coffee in his hand and a few slices of bread resting on a green, rather worn out plate in front of him. He was staring absently out the window, his brow furrowed in deep thought.

She was so stubborn he could hardly stand it. Nothing in this world could be solved by running into the bathroom and shut yourself in, and even if it was... wasn't that supposed to be _his_ job? He was the Slytherin; the cunning, self preserving, 'save yourself' character. She was the brave, the noble, the feisty Gryffindor. And his feisty Gryffindor was now locked in the bathroom refusing to speak to him, most likely out of embarrassment and fear. Yet, here he was; Slytherin extraordinaire, handling the situation as a grown up.

He dropped his dishes forcefully into the sink, his annoyance with her hitting a new peak. There had to be some way of getting her out of there. Then he smiled mischievously; she had to be hungry by now. He made a small sandwich in a hurry and grabbed a cup of coffee in his free hand before making his way back up.

"Room service."

He couldn't help but smile when he heard her groan on the other side. Her making an actual sound was a big improvement.

"ha-ha," she said dryly, and he rolled his eyes at her paranoia.

"I'm not trying to trick you; I brought you food since I actually had to go to breakfast alone."

"Well, I'm not opening the door so you can blast it open and pull me out, if that's what you think," she told him, her voice sounding oddly thick to him. Was she crying?

"You need to eat," he said calmly. "And you need to get dressed," he added as an afterthought, getting an odd urge to chuckle.

"I found some clothes in here," came her muffled reply.

"Clean ones?"

"More or less..."

"Oh come on, Hermione," he exclaimed at that. "This is getting pathetic."

"It's not pathetic," she spat back. "It's my _feelings_."

"You can have your feelings outside the bathroom too," he told her dryly.

"Just find a way to get me the breakfast."

"You can come out and eat it with me."

"Give it up, Draco, I'm not coming out. I'm staying in here as long as I possibly can."

"Why?!" he cried, the frustration clearly evident in his tone.

"Cause... Just... cause I _can't_ face you, okey?"

He groaned unhappily and let his head fall forward to hit the door with a thud. A shuddering breath escaped him as he hit his head against the door yet again.

"I'll go put your food on the ground beneath the window, and you can levitate it inside," he muttered, backing up from the door.

So he had backed down. He was afraid that if he pushed her further she would stop talking again, and at least now she was communicating, even if she refused to see him. He shook his head, utterly perplexed at the turn of events. She _loved_ him.

* * *

She felt kind of bad for him. It wasn't his fault that she had lost her mind completely and just poured her heart out in a pathetic display of losing control. It hadn't been the right moment, the right setting... basically, it hadn't been the right _anything_. Her friends still didn't understand, they were still so _new_. And worst of all, it was way too soon for him to feel anything similar towards her – if he ever would. 

The thought that he might never return her feelings was what kept her sitting firmly on the bathroom floor, refusing any of his attempts to make her come out. She knew she would take one look at him and burst into tears, and she did not want him to see her cry – and definitely not over him. They were Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. No matter how much he had changed, they weren't supposed to have this issue. She wasn't supposed to cry because he would never love her.

She heard him whistle from down below, and she waited until she heard him walk off before she moved towards the window. Two storeys down her food was resting on the ground, and she took her wand out before carefully levitating it up towards the open window. As she watched her breakfast rising steadily against the wall of her building she wondered once again what her neighbours must have thought. There were even Muggles around here, and she was jeopardizing it all because she couldn't handle a little embarrassment.

When it was safely inside she shut the window tightly, not wanting to give Draco any opportunity to get in, from any angles. She dried her still wet cheeks on the sleeve of her shirt, before biting hungrily into her food. The _Stupidest Moment in the History of Embarrassingly Imbecilic Blunders__- _ as she had dubbed it - had made her forget all her bodily needs, it seemed. Not only was she hungryshe was also rather sleepy, somewhat exhausted and felt a distinct pain in her rear end from having camped in the floor for what felt like hours.

If only she had that bloody timeturner. She'd give just about anything right now for the option to go back in time and stop herself from committing The _Stupidest Moment in the History of Embarrassingly Imbecilic Blunders. _If she went back she could create a distraction of some sort. Or convince herself to say "I love you - r b_oxers._ They are just _so_ soft and that shade of pink really suits your death-pale skin."

There were so many alternatives, and yet she had said the only thing that not only jeopardized her relationship with him, but also with her dearest – but seemingly quite close-minded – friends. She knew it was that conversation with Snape. It had triggered something in her; some sort of realisation of how far it had really gone. It just seemed that her mouth and tongue had gotten this information before the rest of her had.

* * *

He had turned to drastic measures. To use the overly clichéd imagery of their house rivalry; he was walking right into the lion's den. He was calling on higher powers, so to speak. Only it was neither God, nor Merlin. It was Harry Potter. As he begrudgingly placed his knees on the floor in front of the fireplace he questioned his own sanity. He was really going to floo his own head into Harry Potter's flat. And he was really going to ask them for help...to get his girlfriend out of the bathroom.

Throwing a handful of meticulously picked swearwords out into the empty room, he grabbed a fist full of floo powder. Merlin, he really did have a death wish. He closed his eyes against the dizzying sensation he got after he mirrored her last call, and kept them thoroughly closed until he heard a distinct high pitched scream coming from the room he suddenly popped into.

"Harry, will you quit your wailing? Sometimes I swear you're the little sister I never had."

Draco quirked his eyebrow, trying to keep his face otherwise neutral.

"Ginny," Harry hissed, giving glances of panic towards the fireplace. "There's a _ferret_ in our fireplace."

Ginny gave a slight squeal from the kitchen.

"I love ferrets!" she proclaimed enthusiastically, making Draco grin smugly while Harry looked mortified.

"You have got to be joking," he said in utter horror.

Ginny came rushing into their living room, but stopped quickly when she saw which ferret Harry was referring to.

"That's just mean," she sulked. "I was going to keep it."

At this, Draco actually chuckled, making both Ginny and Harry turn towards him in suspicion.

"As much as I would absolutely _love_ to stay here as your household pet, there are some...err... difficulties we need to take care of."

"Look, I'm not helping you with anything," Harry replied at once, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh, Harry, grow up. The man is not a Death Eater anymore."

"He's still insufferable!"

"It's not about me," Draco shot in, stopping their bickering effectively. "It's Hermione."

The words made them both jump in alarm, Ginny going suspiciously pale.

"What about Hermione? Is she okey?" she inquired, her eyes large with worry.

"As far as I know she's fine..."

"_As far as you know_?" Harry bit angrily. He looked so worried; however, that Draco immediately decided to overlook the obvious anger. "How about you cut the crap and tell us what you're up to."

"I'm not plotting your murder, the downfall of the Muggle world or a Ministry take-over. Stop being so horribly paranoid!"

Draco rolled his eyes forcefully, wondering when this bright idea had occurred to him and why he had not beaten it away with a stick.

"Harry, leave him be."

However glad Draco was for her support, he had to wonder if being in a relationship automatically meant that your girlfriend would side with the opposite party at all times – even if they were your former arch-enemy.

"The address is number 43 Cobbler Road. If you want to help Hermione, all you have to do is grab some powder and say the words," he said crossly.

He pulled back without waiting for their answer, and found himself back in her living room. Pulling himself up from the hard wood he dusted off his knees and stepped back. As the seconds passed, his eyebrows pulled into a frown. They weren't going to let her down, were they? Well, technically... he supposed it was _him_ they'd be letting down, but they didn't really know that just yet.

His worries were in vain. Only moments after the thought had surfaced, the fire flashed green and Ginny stepped out of the way, clearing the floor for her boyfriend following right behind. Draco's expression softened in relief, knowing that if anyone could help him with this, it would have to be the two of them.

"We're here for Hermione," Harry told him, rather pointlessly.

"Oh, silly me. I thought you were here to pick me up for our date," Draco stated dryly, rolling his eyes forcefully.

"Keep it nice, boys," Ginny chastised. "I'm sure you can tolerate each other for just a little while. You managed to fight on the same side against Voldemort. I'm sure we can handle staying in the same room."

Draco couldn't argue with her on that part, and only shrugged in reply.

"What's the matter with Hermione?" she then asked, after giving her sulking boyfriend the always effective roll of the eyes.

"She has..." his gaze fell to the floor and his voice dropped in volume, "locked herself in the bathroom."

Both of them looked utterly perplexed, their eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

"Locked herself in the bathroom? Why on earth would she do that?"

"It's a horribly long story," he said begrudgingly.

"Don't you act innocent," Harry fumed. "We all know you said something to upset her, you insensitive jerk."

"I didn't get the chance to say anything," Draco said with a heavy sigh. "She said something, then she realised exactly what she said and then she ran off and locked herself in. She's been there since this morning."

"She's been... are you serious?!" Ginny asked, her mouth open in shock. "It's nearly 6 PM!"

Draco nodded solemnly, his bad mood hitting a definite peak as he was forced to retell the incident.

"The girl must be starved. Let's go talk to her."

The two of them started ascending the stairs, muttering quietly amongst themselves.

"I fed her, you know," Draco added haughtily.

"How could you have done that if she locked herself in?"

"Put it on the ground so she could levitate it through the window."

"You two are officially stark raving mad."

He merely shrugged at this, knowing it was probably true.

He pointed at the door, and pulled back, leaning against the doorframe in the entrance to her bedroom. Ginny put her hand against the door, knocking gently.

"Go away, Draco. We've been over this a million times already."

"It's Ginny," she said, after giving Draco a sympathetic look.

Silence followed, making the three of them glance at each other in worry.

"That's foul play, ferret-face!"

Draco snorted at that, allowing himself to grin smugly at his own geniality.

"Hermione, please come out. Whatever it is, it's not worth it," Ginny told her gently.

"You don't know what happened. If you did the same, you'd be in here too."

"Look, we know Malfoy was mean to you..." Harry tried, but got cut off by an indignant Draco.

"The hell I was, Potter. Stop reciting your ultimate fantasy!"

"Draco hasn't done anything, Harry. Stop pestering him."

Draco gave him smug grin, gloating in the fact that Harry was once again told off. It was oh so childish, but nonetheless gratifying.

"I was the one who had the SMEIB," she told them in a defeated voice.

"The what?" Harry inquired with a glance at Draco, who shrugged, looking equally confused.

"The _Stupidest Moment in the History of Embarrassingly Imbecilic Blunders."_

"Oh, come off it, Hermione!" Draco groaned. "It was not stupid; it was not embarrassing, not the least bit imbecilic and not even close to being a blunder."

"I know you're just saying that to make me feel better. You're all just going to feel sorry for me and give me those pitying glances if I come out of here."

"You are just making no sense, Hermione," Ginny said carefully. "Why don't you tell me the whole story?"

"Definitely not."

"Fine, Hermione," Harry said loudly. "We're going to stay here. Until you come out. And there will be no levitating of food!"

Draco gave him an appreciative glance. "Wow. Strict."

"It's the only thing that works. She likes rules, but I think she enjoys punishment equally," Harry whispered, making a weird grimace.

Draco laughed, just as Hermione exclaimed that she could hear them just fine.

"So, Ginny. Are you talking to Ron yet?"

"She started talking to him when she discovered the amusement in picturing his expression when finding out you're shagging his favourite Slytherin."

"Good."

* * *

Harry was barely sitting upright now. Ginny had her head lolled back against the wall and her eyes shut. It was almost midnight now, and the stubborn beast was still absolutely refusing to get out. He shook his head before resting it on his crossed arms. He had one card left to play, but he had been waiting as long as he could in hopes that it would not come to this. This was not how he wanted it to be.

He got up from the floor and walked up towards the door. He put his ear against the door, resting his exhausted body against it.

"Hermione," he tried, wondering if she was actually awake still.

"Yeah," came the quiet reply.

"Please, just come out. I want to talk about this. You know I have things to say about this too, but I want to do this face to face."

The other two eyed him at that, Ginny looking oddly sympathetic.

"That's exactly why I won't come out. I can't face you. I can't hear you say that it has to stop," she admitted, and his heart fell when he was certain that he heard her sniffle slightly.

He let out a loud groan, turning his back against the door and smacked the back of his head against it. Slowly, he slid against the door and onto the hard floor. His back rested against the door she refused to open, and he pulled his knees up to rest his head on them. He hadn't wanted to say it like this. He had wanted to see her eyes as they lit up, see that wonderful smile form on her lips. Merlin hated him, he was certain of it. He looked up again and rested the back of his head against the door.

"I love you too."

The other two had eyes the size of Trelawney's useless crystal balls, but they quickly moved off him and towards the door as they heard a frantic shuffle on the other side. Suddenly, the door opened inwards, sending Draco flat on his back across the threshold and his entire upper body inside the bathroom. Hermione was sitting on the bathroom floor, grinning from ear to ear in a rush of euphoria.

He lay flat on his back staring up into her eyes as they were shining with emotion and unshed tears, and felt the familiar feeling in his stomach and tightening in his chest. A warm smile formed on his lips as he watched the girl of his most sordid daydreams beam at him from above. He felt her small hand tangle in his hair before her lips met his. It was so light, so simple – and yet so revealing and so intense. She tasted off Hermione – his very favourite – and she promised him greater things than he had ever received in his life. Merlin, he loved this woman.

* * *

**A/N II:** Thanks to all wonderful reviewers. You seriously make my day :D. Loads of love and e-hugs to go around! 


	16. The Twist

**Disclaimer:** I live with a terrible secret... I am not JK Rowling and I'm just making a non-profit fanfic. -sob-

**A/N:** I'm in the middle of my exam weeks, and I've been doing hardcore studying for most of November. It sucks how life gets in the way sometimes. Grr. But here it is, finally. And things are calming down, so the next chapters shouldn't be too far away!

* * *

_Chapter 16 // __The__Twist_

"If you refuse to leave my house, will you at least start _speaking_?" Hermione asked haughtily, striking past the two sulking figures who lay in each corner of her couch.

It was 9 AM in the morning, and the two of them were still as quiet as they had been last night. Despite refusing to utter a word, they had not budged from her home, which had been a hassle since Hermione could hardly do the horizontal samba with Draco while her two livid friends were brooding downstairs. He had been forced to leave, when all she wanted to do was cling to him so tightly he could never get away.

She had seriously thought she would have to let him go, thinking he couldn't possibly feel the same. Hearing him say the words had sent her heart into a wild beat mysteriously sounding like _She Loves You_ by The Beatles. The feeling couldn't be described by any words she knew, and that was a very unfamiliar situation. She liked words. And now words were falling short.

As she looked over her shoulder where she stood in the kitchen frying eggs for breakfast she knew some of the euphoria from last night had gone. Yes, it was amazing to feel this way, and it was amazing to have it returned, but Ginny and Harry reminded her of what the reactions would be. She couldn't hide up here for the rest of her life; she was too attached to her job and Wizard London, and besides she would have to see friends and family again at some point.

Honestly; it scared her. Around here it was easy to pretend the past never happened. No one except a selected few knew who Draco really was, and their relationship was as private as it would ever be, considering no one knew he was here at all. Would they survive the attention, and all the people working against them? She found it hard enough fighting against the wrath of Ginny and Harry, let alone the entire wizarding world.

"Breakfast," she announced briskly, putting their eggs on the table in front of them.

She turned her back to them, sitting down by the table facing the window and his house. There were no stalker tendencies left in her at that moment, only a vacant expression as she was lost in thought. Her vision became unfocused, as her mind raced around like a confused snitch. She was not going to give up on her relationship with Draco just because Harry and Ginny couldn't grow up, but she didn't enjoy the silent treatment. They always stood by her, and for them to be so obviously against this was tearing down her resolution to make this work.

A sudden pop broke the eerie silence in the room, and she turned around in haste. Draco stood there in his blue chequered pyjama pants and white t-shirt, his haired looking messed up and he was noticeably unshaven. Her heart was trying to river dance.

"Lola is banging on my door," he groaned, pulling a hand through his hair, making it even less tidy. "The last time I saw her she was begging for a second date. Shit."

Hey; her resolution was back! This was just like magic.

"The answer to her demand shouldn't be too hard to find," she commented dryly before raising her eyebrow. "No."

"Of course I want to say no..."

"Okey, I don't like that statement. It involves an expression of a _wish_, and it gives me the promise of an upcoming 'but'."

Ginny and Harry had now given up their show of ignoring her and had their full attention glued to them instead.

Draco ran his hand over his eyes, looking rather tired and frustrated at this point.

"Don't you get it?" he exclaimed, his voice carrying an irritated edge. "Ella knows who I am. She knows I'm here, and she's smart enough to know that I'm in hiding. I lied about my name, so of course she knows I don't want to be recognised."

"So you've given the woman ammunition to blackmail you. Just brilliant, troll brain!" she cried, images of the last date between Lola and Draco flashing through her mind like a horrible holiday slideshow from her all too open minded aunt that she just couldn't stop.

"I haven't given her anything. I haven't given her the slightest hint about who I am. You know damn well that she figured it out all on her own."

He threw his hands up when she just clenched her jaw in annoyance at this.

"Look, please tell me you have a better suggestion. Cause if you do I'll take it right now, no questions."

She moved her gaze to meet his and found him looking worried and torn. He wasn't enjoying this either, apparently, but that didn't make it much better.

"I don't," she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest as she rose from her seat. "I don't have any other suggestion as to how we can satisfy her ego."

His shoulders fell slightly, and she braced herself for what she was about to say.

"Draco... would it really be so bad if she spilled?" she asked hesitantly, taking a few steps closer. "The worst thing that can happen is that people find out you're here."

She grimaced when he seemed to flinch at her words.

"We've been through this before," he told her quietly, not looking at any of them.

"I know."

"I'm not ready for that. I'm not ready for waking up to a horde of reporters outside my home every day. And I'm definitely not ready for the questions of why I've been gone so long."

"Draco, why do you keep acting like you're guilty of anything in this war?" she inquired intensely, trying to catch his glance. "You were on our side, and you did no less than any of us. If anything you did more than most!"

"They just see my name, Hermione. I'm branded. I'm a Malfoy, and for that everyone thinks they know who I am and what I stand for," he said, sighing heavily as he rubbed his temple. "I'm tired of being judged. All I want is to live my life away from those who sees me as nothing but a Malfoy."

"And dating Lola is going to help that how?" she asked dryly. "The only reason – or at least the main reason – they want her paired with you is your name and your heritage."

"Merlin, I know," he said in despair. "I don't know what to do."

She cast a glance over at her friends who now appeared almost hypnotized by the scene. Neither of them blinked for a second as they watched the banter. Giving them a stern look, she picked her wand out from the waistline of her pyjamas and cast a soundproof bubble around the two of them.

"Draco, I'm going to be completely honest with you," she said in a hushed voice, holding his gaze. "I love you. And you have no idea how I feel about you feeling the same. But our relationship has barely started. You and I are not strong enough to be put to this test."

"I know it seems insane, that I would go on a date with another woman now of all times. But I swear to you, on everything I am, that it's just to throw her off. It's to make her believe she has the upper hand and to keep her mollified."

"And in two weeks time, then what? Do you think she'll be happy with one measly date? You and I can't show our faces in town, or they'll know in an instant. Do you know what you're throwing us into?"

"I can't even believe I'm thinking the thought of putting you through this. I'm the worst boyfriend in the entire magical world," he swallowed and put his hand gently against her cheek, touching her for the first time since he arrived.

"You're not," she objected, smiling slightly. "You asked before going on the date, and you haven't slept with her behind my back."

Before he could retort back she removed the protective bubble and was surprised to find both Harry and Ginny on their feet. Draco's hand fell to his side when she turned against them, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"You should go on the date, Malfoy," Harry stated firmly, ignoring the piercing look from his clearly irritated girlfriend.

"He's with Hermione; he shouldn't go on any damn date with anyone!"

"That crazy person is going to rat him out if he doesn't play by their rules," Harry protested.

"So what if she does? He can't hide out here forever!"

"Can't you see the man needs time, Gin?"

Hermione's eyebrows were almost hidden in her curls by now. Harry Potter was siding with Draco Malfoy. She was pretty much speechless.

"Remember after the war when I didn't even want to leave the house? The only ones I wanted to see were you, Hermione and Ron. You were baking obsessively for months, finding excuses not to return to work."

Ginny nodded reluctantly, and Hermione shuddered at the thought of all the pies she ate during those months.

"But we all had people to help us through it, and he didn't. Can't you see he's not ready to face the questions yet?"

"Harry Potter... when did you turn so perceptive?" his girlfriend asked slightly disbelieving.

"It comes forth when I need it," he smiled, looking pleased with himself.

"You should need it more often," she told him dryly, making him grin even wider.

"I don't even know if this is such a good idea anymore," Draco shot in, looking distressed.

"Like it's already been pointed out, I don't think there's much of an alternative," Hermione retorted. "You either play by their rules or they'll go to the Prophet; I'm sure of it. I certainly don't like the idea, and I stand by everything I said previously, but I have no other ideas."

"I suppose there are no other ways to do this," Ginny agreed, finally losing some of her hostile edge. "And it's not even that bad if you think about it. It'll be just like going out with a friend, and it's like the spy-duties you had to perform at first in the war. It's just pretend."

They all looked at each other, neither of them quite understanding what they had all agreed on. It was absurd. And they had all agreed, even when none of them even liked the idea much in the first place, Hermione perhaps least of all.

"You should arrange it as quickly as you can," Hermione then said, breaking the suffocating silence. "Take her to the restaurant."

"I refuse to take her to the restaurant," he muttered, his cheeks colouring.

"If you're going to go through with this you can't be cheap. You have to look as if you mean it," Harry noted.

"I took Hermione there for our first date. I don't want to take her there."

Hermione's expression softened and she felt an overwhelming urge to aw at this, but repressed it as well as she could.

"Aw!"

It appeared Ginny hadn't quite managed to fight her urge.

"Shut up," Draco growled in embarrassment, looking down at the floor.

Ginny snickered quickly. "But to get back to the serious business; if you take her to the restaurant, Hermione, Harry and I can get a table close by and keep an eye on her without raising much suspicion."

"It's okay," Hermione assured him. "Really."

His gaze lingered on her for several moments, before he gave a defeated sigh.

"Alright, I'll go make the arrangements straight away. And...Get dressed."

Hermione chuckled quietly, taking notice of the fact that they were both in their pyjamas still. He stepped closer to her and tangled both his hands in her unruly hair. She tilted her head upwards, looking at him as he seemed to drink her in. His lips claimed hers for a feather light kiss, before he stepped back again and disapparated on the spot.

* * *

"Have you heard anything?" Ginny asked from her seat by the fireplace, looking up as Hermione came down the stairs. 

"Not yet, but I suppose he'll stop by later to let us know how it's working out," she answered, coming to the bottom to find Ginny alone in the living room. "Where's Harry?"

"Went for a walk. He looked out the window and almost fainted in glee over how charming it all was. He's such a girl."

"It really is beautiful, though," Hermione told her, sitting down in the far corner of the couch before stretching her feet out on it.

"I'll wait till you can take me on a tour," Ginny sad with a crooked smile, turning another page in the prophet.

They both remained silent for a while, Hermione lost in thought and Ginny preoccupied with an article about a new herb with medical qualities. It was oddly nice having them in her house again, even if they weren't all too pleased with the situation. She had almost forgotten how much she missed them.

"So..." Ginny began, "in love with ferretboy, huh?"

"Yep."

"Infatuated with the Prince of Slytherin?"

"Indeed."

"On your knees for insufferable snake boy?"

"You guessed it."

"Can't live without the thin, pointy, pasty face?"

"Nope."

"Willing to risk your reputation for Malfoy Junior?"

Instead of answering she turned towards Ginny with a crestfallen look.

"I am. I'd do almost anything. But I would lie if I said I don't fear the reactions."

"What about the situation with him hiding? Are you comfortable with that?"

"If anything is going to break us, I think that's going to be it. When I'm ready, I'm going back to London. I have to. My job is there, my friends, my family. I have to go back, and if he doesn't want to I don't know what I'll do," she admitted. "But I have to try this, Gin."

"So you have no immediate plans on calling this off?"

"I don't know if I'll ever want to," Hermione told her truthfully, meeting her gaze across the space between them.

Ginny gave a heavy sigh.

"I guess I don't have much choice on the matter. If the alternative is to never speak to you, I think I prefer giving him a chance."

Hermione's smile widened at this, and a sudden relief filled her. Was Ginny actually going to take her side on this?

"At least it'll piss Ron off," Ginny added gleefully, folding the Prophet neatly. "Let's make dinner, I'm starved."

Hermione laughed and shook her head before following the redhead out into the kitchen. Ginny was already making the pots and pans do her bidding, so Hermione cast an illusion charm on the window to prevent unsuspecting muggles seeing carrots chopping themselves before leaping suicidally into the pot.

"How's the family?" Hermione asked as she found a spot next to Ginny.

Ginny smiled warmly, sending her a sideways glance.

"Dad is still working way too much; Mum is being normal and never stops fussing about all our lives; Charlie I haven't seen since the last time you met him; Bill is still not himself since Fleur left; and Fred and George are as busy as ever."

"I wish Bill would stop beating himself up over that," Hermione sighed, leaning across the table to find a knife.

"I know. Their relationship was pretty dysfunctional from the start, and we all knew it would end that way."

"I think Ron and I were the same. No, listen. I think that – more than anything – Ron and I _wanted_ to be in love, to be in a relationship. It had been in the cards for so long and it felt so safe. In many ways I think I held on to the strong desire of making it work, overlooking the fact that we weren't compatible."

"You did love each other, though," Ginny shot in.

"We did," Hermione agreed. "But I'm starting to realise how fragile it was. I don't think we loved each other enough to work through everything else. In the end we drifted apart. And I did my share of drifting too."

Ginny just nodded thoughtfully, keeping her eyes on the work she was doing

"I'm starting to realise how much I miss you all," Hermione admitted, thinking back to the last day she spent at the Burrow. It had been months ago, back when she was still the daughter in law. Where did she stand now?

"Oddly enough, Fred and George seems to be the ones who are most torn up about you being gone. We all miss you, but Fred and George have been especially prissy with Ron ever since we all learned what happened."

"The twins and I aren't as different as people seem to think," Hermione chuckled.

"You have grown suspiciously close, I will admit that."

Hermione laughed, and was about to retort when the front door swung open and loud chatter cut their conversation off.

"Hermione, you didn't tell me Harry was coming for a visit!" Miranda exclaimed accusingly.

She was pushing Harry good naturedly before her into the kitchen, beaming even more than usual.

"Ah, you've met," Hermione grinned. "It was a rather spontaneous visit, so I didn't even know until last night after they arrived."

"It's okay, dear," Miranda assured her, and turned around to find that Harry had taken a seat by the table.

Harry was now shorter than her, so she took advantage of the situation and began petting his stubborn hair down. Hermione watched in amusement as the motherly woman fussed over Harry.

"And that must be your girlfriend," Miranda exclaimed after having noticed Ginny.

"Ginny Weasley," she nodded, reaching her hand out with a smile.

"Miranda Alm. Such a pleasure to meet you both! Now I know Hermione wasn't delusional."

"Delusional?" Hermione asked, sniffing in disapproval.

"Well, you did claim your best friend was Harry Potter. Most people usually lie when they say that, how was I supposed to know you were actually telling the truth?"

Miranda laughed her warm, loud laugh, putting her hand comfortingly on Hermione's shoulder.

"Miranda is my neighbour," Hermione explained, smiling involuntarily. "She makes life around here interesting."

"I sure do," Miranda agreed. "Speaking of making life interesting; where is Draco hiding?"

"Oh, he's at his own place. He had to plan a date with Lola," Hermione explained lightly, tidying some of the used equipment together.

"And why in Merlin's name would he want to go on a date with Lola?"

"Ella knows who he is, and we're afraid she'll rat him out if we don't try to keep her happy."

Miranda sighed at that, looking out the window for a quick second.

"It pains me to admit you might be right. She has changed a lot since we first became friends. I hardly know her anymore," she admitted sadly, meeting Hermione's concerned gaze.

"I know how that feels," Harry muttered next to her, causing Miranda to turn in surprise.

When she found Harry gazing absently out the window, she gave his hair an affectionate stroke.

"Everyone changes, and sometimes for the worse. It's sad, but it's life."

"And sometimes for the better," Hermione commented quietly when she saw Draco materialise in the middle of her living room.

Miranda turned and followed her gaze and broke into a smile.

"There you are. "

He smiled tiredly at her as he approached, putting his hand loosely around her shoulders.

"Have the gnomes been giving you any more trouble?"

"Oh no, they've been keeping away for now at least. Thank you for degnoming the garden for me, my back really isn't what it used to be."

"You know it's a pleasure," he smiled. "It smells great in here, I'm starved."

"Who says you're invited?" Ginny asked with an eyebrow raised.

Draco looked uncertain for a moment, but when Ginny couldn't keep her angry mask anymore and her lips broke into a smile, he relaxed visibly.

"Oh dear, you are a sly one aren't you," Miranda laughed. "Gave him quite a scare."

"I have 6 brothers. It's a survival technique," Ginny laughed.

"Would you like to stay for dinner, Miranda?" Hermione chipped in.

"Oh, I would love to, but I have something cooking already."

Miranda said her goodbyes and left the four of them in the small kitchen. Hermione started setting the table, while Harry didn't quite like how tiny it was and thus how intimate the setting was bound to be. Her table just enough for two, and would most likely be quite intimate for four. Harry stood with his wand in hand, rubbing his temple with his other one, looking rather stumped. Hermione bustled around him putting plates and cutlery in place, while Ginny and Draco were making the food ready to serve.

"I can't remember the spell," Harry complained in annoyance, waving his wand with a distinct mutter, only causing the table to give a slight rattle.

Hermione gave him an annoyed glance when one of the glasses fell over. She grabbed the wand from his outstretched hand and pointed it firmly at the table.

"I really don't get how you remember every little spell," Harry said, shaking his head. "Now, give it back. That thing killed Voldemort you know."

"Oh in that case, I think I'll keep it," she grinned, giving it an affectionate pet.

"Not very likely!"

She squeaked when he came charging at her and enclosed his hands around her waist. Moments later she had been lifted off the ground and he was now carrying her around the waist in a death grip.

"Harry, let me go!" she shrieked in between guffaws of laughter.

"Oh, I don't know. I think I like having the power over you...for once."

When he loosened his hold just enough to tickle her, she wriggled desperately as she was attacked by fits of giggles.

"Oh God!" she called, all out of breath. "I'll be nice."

"Promise?"

"Oh, will you kids give it a rest?" Ginny laughed. "I know it's been long, but you have more than enough time to drive each other nuts soon enough."

Harry laughed and put her down, but didn't loosen his hold until he had given her a hug from behind, making her beam happily. It really had been too long since she had spent any time with them.

"Now, sit," Ginny commanded, pulling up a chair of her own at the magically lengthened table.

They all found a place, Hermione finding herself seated between Harry and Draco. It wasn't an unpleasant experience...rather on the contrary, in fact. She turned towards the blond beside her, finding his face in serious folds.

"Are you alright?" she asked tentatively as she reached for a plate.

He looked up slowly, nodding his head a fraction of an inch.

"I'm good," he said softly. "I just arranged a date with another girl for tomorrow night, when my current girlfriend just got out of a relationship where her ex cheated on her. I'm just marvellous."

He bit cheerlessly into his food, meeting none of their eyes.

"We all agreed this is for the best," Hermione said carefully. "I agreed to this too. And I know you're not doing this cause you want to. If you wanted her you would have picked her from the start."

"What if you're stalkerish tendencies scared me into dating you?" he asked jokingly, some of the boyish quality back in his eyes.

"Stalkerish?" Ginny enquired with a raised eyebrow.

"It's nothing," Hermione quickly assured them.

Draco just smiled, shaking his head as Ginny remained unconvinced.

"Well, all I know is anyone brave enough to date Hermione should get a medal," Harry proclaimed, ducking just in time to escape the fork that zoomed right above his head and got stuck to the wall.

* * *

**A/N II:** I'm very uncertain of what I think of this chapter. I really want to give you good chapters for the end of this and keep people happy with it, but I fear this might have been teh suck. :( But there's still more to come anyway. 

And lots of thanks to the reviewers from the last chapter. You make my day. Seriously. I physically squeal when I open my email and see the review alerts.

(just editing a mistake.)


	17. The Date II

**Disclaimer:** All I own is all the hard work spent on this chapter.

* * *

_Chapter 17 // __The __Date II_

She sat up, pulling the covers up over her chest. The mornings were colder now, as the beginning of October was beginning to draw near. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and turned her head to find Draco sprawled on the bed next to her, hogging more than half of the available space. A soft snore suddenly sounded from the sleeping man as he rolled even further onto her side of the bed. She rolled her eyes, but smiled softly nonetheless as she kept watching his chest rise and fall.

Hermione pulled her knees up to her chest and coiled her arms around them. It was incredibly strange how she was waking up next to this man, and only hours from now he was going on a date with another woman – with her permission, nonetheless. Her eyes fell on his t-shirt in a mess on the floor. He would have picked Lola from the start if he really wanted her, wouldn't he? There had to be a reason that t-shirt was carelessly strewn on _her _bedroom floor.

She couldn't help but question if he would feel the same way when she decided to return to London. Because the day would come and they both knew it. And she was fairly certain Lola would be more than happy to pick up the pieces and remove some shirts. She rested her chin on the top of her knees, taking a deep breath. Some part of her always wondered if it was fair to expect him to fight all of those against them. Maybe he would be better off with Lola when it all came down to it. It wouldn't be problematic for anyone (with the exception of herself), she was a pureblood so he had no worries there and she was a beauty any male would happily entertain. And most importantly; she wasn't going anywhere.

Suddenly she felt the warmth of his hand press against her bare back.

"Stop thinking," he commanded, and she felt him stretch next to her on the bed. "And please lay back down. It's way too early for this horrifying day to start."

She only hesitated for a second before she lowered herself back down onto the pillow, pulling the covers with her. He lay considerably closer now than he had before, and she could feel the warmth from his body underneath the covers. It really was much too early for this day to begin. She reached a hand across his stomach and pulled herself closer, resting her cheek on his chest. He answered by putting his hand to rest on the small of her back.

"Don't think about it," he repeated softly, and she felt his chest vibrate as he spoke.

"Alright."

* * *

"Harry and Gin will be here any minute," Hermione reminded him as she pulled the silk top over her head. 

She was getting dressed for her boyfriend's date with another woman. There's something you don't do every day.

"We'll just head down there a bit early to get a table and be settled in when you get there."

He just nodded in reply, swirling his wand over the tie to make it tie itself. It looped itself into a neat knot, tightening around his neck. Suddenly he gulped for air and began waving frantically with his wandhand when the tie continued to tighten dangerously. Hermione whipped around at the sound of him wheezing and found him fighting the tie's death grip. Within seconds she had him released from its claws and he sunk to the floor in exhaustion. She removed the now limp tie from around his neck and laughed nervously.

"I guess you'll go for the casual look?"

"I think...that may be best," he said, his voice sounding unnaturally high-pitched. "Damn muggle contraptions."

"There's a reason why mixing muggle inventions with magic is strictly regulated," She reminded him, throwing the tie carelessly onto a nearby chair.

When he didn't reply, she looked down at him rather questioningly.

"Oh, do continue the boring lecture on Ministry regulations and the repercussions of breaking them," he urged with a fake smile, getting off the floor with slight difficulty.

"I thought that lecture would be unneeded since you nearly got suffocated," she replied dryly, deciding not to give him a helping hand.

"I wasn't _suffocating_."

"Oh I'm so sorry. I must have misinterpreted your incessant squawking," she bit.

"Well, I certainly didn't misinterpret your nagging."

Draco tugged forcefully at the collar of his shirt, giving himself a displeased grimace in the mirror and either missed or deliberately ignored Hermione's Glare of Female Wrath.

"Make sure you don't miss Lola's flirting. You might lose a chance to boost your already overblown ego!"

"Oh, believe me. I won't miss it," he said with a self-confident smirk, his eyes mirroring the annoyance in his voice.

Her jaw clenched in anger just as the fire downstairs roared. She didn't even look at him before she turned on her heels and took the stairs in a few leaps. Harry and Ginny were dusting the soot off their clothes when she came hurtling down, her hair looking almost electrified as it stood around her head like a halo.

"Hermione, what –"

She waved Harry off with a brisk movement, and grabbed her wallet from the table.

"Come on, let's go," she called at the stunned couple merely looking at each other while Hermione stomped towards the exit.

"What the hell, Hermione!" Harry cried, as they had to rush out the door to keep up. "What is the matter with you?"

"That big oaf in there is what's the matter with me!" she huffed, stomping her feet angrily against the gravel, a sickening crunching-sound following her thuds.

"Did you guys fight?" Ginny asked softly, racing to keep up with the livid Hermione.

"Yes we bloody well fought. The damn git pretty much admitted he was going to flirt with that skank."

Hermione kept her insane pace and huffed angrily with every step. Their fight repeated itself word for word in her head, and she couldn't even see where it had come from. It was like it appeared completely out of the blue.

"Look, I know I don't even know the guy anymore – since he obviously isn't who I thought he was – but don't you think you might have provoked him?" Ginny asked cautiously. "Yesterday he seemed so worried about hurting you with this. I can't possibly see why he would deliberately make you feel bad without being provoked."

Hermione didn't answer, but she slowed down gradually, her steps becoming less fierce by the second. When she suddenly stopped Harry bumped into her in his eager to keep up and nearly knocked her over.

"I'm such an idiot," she growled, balling her hands into angry fists.

Harry rolled his eyes behind her and rested his palm soothingly against his forehead.

"I fought with him and left on an awful note before he goes on a date with the blond miracle!" she exclaimed, completely baffled by her own stupidity. "I should've given him a send-off he would've never forgotten, not bit his head off and started a fight."

"Let's just continue walking before you start going into detail about that send-off," Harry cried from behind her and pushed her to start walking again.

"One stupid little argument isn't going to send him into Lola's arms, Hermione," Ginny assured her as they continued. "And if it – against all odds – did, I wouldn't actually consider it a loss."

"I just don't get it. We've been getting along surprisingly well for so long," she sighed, rubbing her temple slowly.

"It's a stressful situation, and you _are_ Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. Any other reaction would surprise me more than this did, to be honest," Ginny pondered, once again having to speed up to keep up with Hermione's frazzled pace.

"How long do we have?" Harry asked after moments of uncomfortable silence.

"About 20 minutes until he picks her up," Hermione answered after a quick glance at her watch. "The town square is just ahead, so we'll make it fine."

"Are you sure you want to do this? We'll do it for you and you can go back home."

"I'll be fine," she assured them. "I have to do this. Sitting at home is just going to make it worse."

They crossed the town square without exchanging another word, and Hermione led them towards the entrance of the restaurant. She noticed it was only moderately full at the moment, and hoped a nearby table would be easy to get a hold of.

"Welcome. May I help you?" a short, but very bright and charming waitress inquired as they entered.

"Yes, please," Hermione replied, glancing back at Harry and Ginny. "We would like a table for 3."

"How about here?" the brunette asked them, stopping by a table almost in the centre of the dimly lit room.

"You don't have anything closer to the window?" Ginny asked quickly, giving her brightest smile. "We're from out of town, and the view is just _so_ charming."

"Unfortunately, the one closest to the window is reserved, but this one is fairly well placed for a view."

Hermione already knew it was reserved, of course. And the table they were presented was in the perfect spot compared to the one Draco had reserved for him and Lola.

"This is perfect, thank you," she smiled, taking a seat, making sure not to be seated with her back to the – for now – empty table by the window.

"Here are your menus, and I'll be back in a few minutes."

Harry and Ginny also made sure to seat themselves strategically to overlook the upcoming date, and the three of them quickly occupied themselves by ordering a meal and chatting about things back home. Hermione nearly even forgot about the reason they were there until two very blond heads quickly caught her attention.

"So this Lola has never met you?" Ginny asked, obviously worrying about the fact that Hermione's trademark hair wasn't that easy to miss.

"No, only her mother. We should be fine."

Hermione's eyes didn't leave the two heading towards them, and only looked away when she saw Draco put a hand on Lola's back to guide her to the table. Her teeth were gritted together so hard she was certain she'd crack them open one by one.

"Nnnngh."

"I'm sorry?" Ginny said, leaning closer to Hermione.

"Nothing," Hermione replied between gritted teeth.

She looked up again, finding both Lola and Draco now seated by the window, Lola gushing over the perfect view and the perfect restaurant and the perfect everything. Her long, blond hair was pulled up into a perfect bun of curls (Hermione smelled a curling spell from far away), while her bright blue eyes were perfectly accentuated by a flawless display of makeup skills. Not to mention her full lips sparkling in flickering light of the candle. If only the candle had been just a bit to the right, and maybe her shirt would have caught fire.

"She's...erm... less ugly than I expected," Harry said quietly, making Ginny widen her eyes warningly.

"Keep your thoughtless comments to yourself," she hissed, taking a sip from her glass.

"I was just saying!" he replied indignantly, eyeing Hermione sideways.

"Well, it's not helping," his girlfriend murmured out of the corner of her mouth.

Hermione hardly even noticed they were talking. Her eyes kept straying to the apparently happy daters, while she tried to remain unsuspicious and preoccupied with eating her food. She only caught bits and pieces of the conversation, and she was afraid to look too obvious as she kept an eye on the two of them.

"Doing this without looking suspicious is harder than I realised," Ginny said quietly. "If we don't talk to each other we just end up looking ridiculous, but if we do we can hardly hear what they're saying over there."

"I know," Hermione sighed, taking another bite and kept the fork resting on her lips as she chewed. "But I think our main priority should be to not attract too much attention. If we can't hear the conversation it's not the end of the world."

"Would she recognise you?" Harry asked, daring to take a quick glance at the two.

"Not likely, but I can't be sure. Her mother may have told her enough about me for her to be suspicious if we attract too much attention."

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud, shrill laugh and they all turned their heads, finding Lola in a fit of laughter. Draco was smiling slightly, but looked apprehensive nonetheless. His date didn't seem to notice, though, and as her moment of amusement calmed she bent over the table slowly, making Hermione's eyebrows nearly reach her hairline.

"She's flashing her bloody cleavage," Hermione growled. "Someone spill a drink down the shirt of that pureblood skank!"

Ginny fell into a hysterical fit of giggles, trying desperately to go unnoticed by the surrounding tables.

"She's pureblood?" Harry asked, having snorted loudly, but managed to contain his laughter – unlike Ginny who was trying to drown it with large sips of water.

"Blond, pureblood, more than likely rich, beautiful – Perfect for Draco," Hermione said grimly. "I mean, look at her! Look at him! Look at _me_. Why isn't he just running off with her as we speak?"

"Because you're a blind idiot who can't see that – first of all – you're very cute and charming as you are, and – secondly – that Draco obviously doesn't _want_ the blond, pureblood, boring girl," Ginny said, still a bit short on breath.

"He's probably met all too many girls like that before, and he's not with any of them now, is he?" Harry reminded her. "Give the guy some credit."

She took a deep breath to calm herself and nodded. She _was_ getting carried away.

"See, this is going just fine," Ginny said brightly. "They're just talking and we're getting a delicious meal."

"I hope it doesn't last too long, though. You have an early shift tomorrow."

"We can leave soon, I suppose. Everything seems to be running smoothly," Hermione assured them, bringing the fork up to her lips for another bite.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Lola leaned in slowly and seductively, her hand suddenly resting on top of Draco's on the table.

"Draco..." she said softly, her eyelids heavily hooded. "I – "

And that was as far as she came before she interrupted herself with an ear-splitting scream. Hermione's fork had fallen roughly onto her plate, sending the contents of the fork flying majestically through the air. Hermione had watched it in slow motion, and even had the time to admire how well it flew. Its course was unmistakable. It was heading straight for the blond girl leaning forwards, her hand safely resting on Draco's. Ginny had gasped loudly just as the piece of food made impact with Lola's wine, sending the white wine tumbling over the edge of the glass and onto the table – and straight into Lola's unfortunately placed eye.

The scream was still sending waves of shock in the room, all diners' eyes now on the hysterical girl. Hermione was hunching down, trying to make herself as small as humanly possible, as she watched Draco jump to his feet with an unreadable look on his face. Lola's eye was pressed tightly together as she flailed her arms widely and whimpered.

Hermione made a horrified grimace, and turned slightly to her right when she heard a wheezing sound.

"Gin, are you _laughing_?" she muttered in shock.

"It's the funniest thing I've ever seen," Ginny whispered, desperately trying to hide her obvious laughter.

Hermione turned to Harry, but this time not even he could keep a straight face. The corner of his mouth was twitching wildly as the rest of his face looked oddly strained.

She hadn't meant to cause a scene like this, and she just prayed to God no one had seen what happened. The image of the girl flailing her arms wildly, causing Draco to yell for her to calm the hell down, was involuntarily funny, though, and she had to suppress a highly inappropriate chuckle.

The staff was rushing forth now, but Draco assured them he had it covered, and politely told them to leave.

"Did you see what happened?" Lola whimpered at Draco, who was standing close to her, trying to inspect the injured eye.

"Err...no. I just suddenly saw the wine going everywhere," he told her, but he turned around and found Hermione with his gaze.

She met it reluctantly, knowing she had pretty much ruined a lot of things, but her mouth almost fell open when she saw distinct amusement in his eyes. His mouth even twitched a tiny bit at the corner, and he had to disguise his half-smile quickly.

He stepped closer to Lola, and she knew he was trying to cover up the wand in his hand. She heard a low murmur, but couldn't see anything and knew the rest hadn't either. When he stepped away, Lola had her eye open and it merely looked a bit red.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I'm sorry the evening was ruined."

"I'm not..." Ginny whispered out of the corner of her mouth, making Hermione blush and Harry snicker like a school-girl.

"Absolutely nothing to worry about," Draco assured her as he looked oddly upbeat.

"Let's get out of here before you take out her other eye," Harry suggested, waving his hand for the check.

"Good idea," Hermione replied quickly, feeling oddly weighed down by guilt.

"That was so brave of you to help me," they heard Lola say as they all paid up for their meal.

"Oh dear Merlin," Ginny muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Err, I've done braver."

"You have?" Lola exclaimed. "Do tell!"

"You know, your eye doesn't look too good. I think I should follow you home and make sure your mother has the right potion to treat it," Draco said carefully, giving her a slight smile.

Lola looked disappointed, but she nodded, admitting that it did hurt still.

Hermione exchanged a relieved smile with her friends, and they left as quietly as they could, careful not to draw attention to themselves. When they piled out from the restaurant, Harry and Ginny finally cracked and laughed so hard they could hardly walk. Hermione gave them an exasperated look, and kept walking even if they fell behind.

"You are _fierce_," Ginny exclaimed, shaking her head.

"And _she_ barely touched his hand, I feel for the girl who goes for the big guns," Harry mocked, holding Ginny by the waist as she was laughing beside him.

"It wasn't that bad!" Hermione protested, but couldn't help but smile when she looked back at the two.

"You poked her eye out!"

"Not on purpose, git!"

"I'm so glad I was invited. I owe you one," Ginny proclaimed, now waltzing happily beside Hermione.

"My pleasure," Hermione answered dryly.

Her friends continued to mock her until she sent them off through the floo, hearing echoes of their laughter as they left. Dear, Merlin. She really had nearly blinded the girl. She wondered if Draco had persuaded her to end the date. And was it enough? Would they have to do this yet again to keep Ella mollified? She shuddered at the mere thought. In that case she might actually have to take out the other eye.

Hermione decided to apparate into Draco's living room and found it completely empty.

"Draco?" she tried, peering up the stairs.

There was no answer, and she figured he wasn't back yet. She sat down in one of his large armchairs and found a book opened at page 94. Resting it in her lap, she flipped the pages in what was obviously a fiction. It felt so long ago that sat here, looking into the blazing flames and poured her heart out. That was the night he had started to heal her heart. And despite the fact that he had just been on a date with another girl, she hadn't felt this good in ages. She really was okay. That's why she had come here in the first place; to heal.

"Hey."

She turned around in the armchair, finding him putting his coat up in the wardrobe.

"Hey," she smiled, and removed the book from her lap.

She got up as he came into the living room, his face rather passive. It was unreadable, and told her nothing of how things had gone since they left. Then he suddenly returned her smile, and somehow it relieved her. She didn't even know why she was worried in the first place, but she was relieved.

In moments he had his arms around her, and she was resting her head against his chest. Her arms coiled around his waist and came to rest on his back as she sighed into his smooth shirt. He was warm. She felt his lips on her hair, and wondered for the umpteenth time how they had found each other – how they had managed to put it all behind them. It was the bravest thing she had done in her life.

"You've got some aim," he said, chuckling softly.

"It wasn't on purpose, you goof," she laughed, pushing him lightly away from her.

She watched him stumble slightly as he chuckled.

"It was such a spectacular sight; the piece of meat swirling through the air on a suicide mission, plunging into the wine glass with full force."

He relived it happily and she gave him an incredulous stare.

"The girl was hurt, for Merlin's sake," she commented, but could hardly hide a smile.

"All I know is you saved me from another insanely boring story about her attending a formal dance, or fundraiser or whatever it is they do now a days."

"And you were so _brave_ when you saved her," Hermione swooned.

"Oh, shut it," he growled, shooing her up the stairs.

She shrieked with laughter as she raced up the stairs and through the door on the right. He shook his head at her antics as he came after her, pulling his shirt up over his head.

"I'm exhausted. The dating game really does wear you out," he commented with a smirk.

"Getting too old, maybe?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and she snickered.

"You're going to pay for that, you know."

"Want to bet?" she laughed.

Before he even got to retaliate she had pushed him down on the bed, and had him straddled in no time.

"I like your style," he told her, smirking unmistakably.

"Tsk tsk, Mr. Malfoy," she said, shaking her head, "such a dirty mind - and only after the second date, no less..."

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you to all reviews and readers! I like to think there are loads of readers out there who are just like me – enjoys the read, but always forgets to review. 

I had fun with this chapter, and I hope you did too.

Btw: I really want some good Dramione to read (somehow I only find the really bad ones : ), so please recommend me some if you know any good ones!


	18. The Change

**Disclaimer: **I must not steal Harry Potter. I must not steal Harry Potter. I must not steal Harry Potter.

**A/N:** Merry Christmas and Happy New Year's everyone! Hope you've had a great Holiday, I know I have. There has been some writing done, when I took a break from stuffing my face with food and frolicking in presents. Le gasp!

* * *

_Cha__pter 18 // __The__ Change_

"Again?" he groaned, letting his head droop melodramatically over the edge of the couch. "It's the third time this week alone."

"You shouldn't complain," she told him, watching him trying to make sense of the room as his head hung upside down from the couch. "It's improving your chances greatly."

"Improving my chances with them or with you?"

"With them, and then in turn – me. The less people we have against us, the easier it'll be."

"Whoever decided it has to be easy?" he asked smartly, obviously finding something amusing as he studied the upside down image of her.

"I assumed easier would be better," she retorted with an arched eyebrow.

"Don't assume. You're just making an _ass _out of _you_ and _me_."

"Have you been watching television again?" she asked worriedly, casting a careful glance towards him.

"I can't help it; that Bridget is so darn hilarious," he admitted lightly. "But the point is: You assumed easier is better, but - in fear of sounding like a clichéd edition of Dumbledore – nothing worth having comes easy."

"Look, I'm just trying to get Ginny and Harry to warm up to you. It'll make things so much ... well... easier and - Okay, why are you smirking?"

She looked down on her outfit but couldn't find anything wrong with it, nor could she see any stains or any limbs mysteriously growing out of places it shouldn't be growing from.

"I was just wondering what upside down sex would feel like," he grinned – rather wolfishly so.

"Down boy," she just said, rolling her eyes at his insatiable energy.

"You're not opening your eyes to the endless possibilities, Hermione dear," he criticised, starting to look a bit red in his usually rather pale cheeks.

"But how would it even _work?_" she protested, putting four plates down on the once again magically enhanced kitchen table.

"Do you have a vague memory of that odd school we once attended? I think it was Dogworts or something," he mocked.

"Your point?" she asked exasperatedly.

"Obviously magic could keep us suspended in the air upside down."

He seemed equally exasperated, but probably for an entirely different reason.

"Yes it could, and then all the blood would flow to your head."

She laughed heartily at his dumbstruck expression – which was etched into his features and clearly visible even in his upside down stage.

"Damn it," he growled. "I will figure out a way to fix that loophole. You shall not escape my evil master plan!"

"No, I'm sure I won't," she comforted him, amusement still sparkling in her eyes, but then she suddenly clapped her hands loudly, making him jump in alarm, snapping his head up. "It's only 15 minutes until they're supposed to be here and you're still frolicking around on the couch in your pyjamas."

"This is why I don't like them coming over," he growled, forcing himself up from the apparently comfortable position. "If you want them to see the real me, why do you keep stashing me up in all these fancy clothes?"

She arched her eyebrow and glared at him.

"I'm not asking you to put on a dragon silk dress robe, I'm asking you to get out of your chequered pyjama trousers – which, by the way, are torn several places and haven't been cleaned since Merlin passed."

He pouted and Hermione glared. Then he pouted some more and she glared harder. His lip trembled a bit and she glared so hard her eyes were nearly closed. His lip continued trembling and he added the puppy eyes. Her eyes closed and she swore under her breath.

She didn't look at him as she stepped over to the fireplace and called for Harry's flat. Not bothering to put her head in, she merely waited until she heard Ginny's questioning voice on the other side.

"Come in your pyjamas," she said in resignation. She deliberately ignored Draco's eyes lighting up.

"In our what?" the confused answer sounded.

"Your pyjamas. It's a pyjamas party...dinner...thing," Hermione tried to clarify.

"Did the puppy eyes get you?"

"Shut up."

Hermione rose to her full height and found Draco grinning triumphantly.

"I'm manipulating you," he commented with glee. "You're so smitten I just bat my eyelashes to get my will!"

Her cheeks burned, knowing he was completely right. All he had done was pout and give her puppy eyes, and she melted like tiny chocolate orbs in the desert sun. It was ridiculous and embarrassing. It was, in fact, ridiculously embarrassing!

He chuckled warmly and wrapped her in his bare arms. When she smiled weakly he dipped his head down and captured her lips very gently, leaving them to tingle from his touch.

"You're ridiculously overdressed for our pyjama party dinner thing," he reminded her, still keeping his arms enclosed around her. "They'll be here in only 5 minutes, and _this_ is what you've been frolicking around in!"

Her mouth formed a thin, threatening line as he released her and laughed heartily.

"Shoo!"

He pushed her towards the stairs and she complied, only to turn around when she had stomped up half the steps.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't," he chuckled, flopping down onto the couch in the exact same, very comfortable position.

Harry and Ginny entered through the floo just as she came down the stairs again in her royal blue pyjama bottoms and a comfy t-shirt she suspected had come from Draco somehow. They had miraculously taken her seriously and had showed up in matching flannel pyjamas – albeit somewhat begrudgingly in Harry's case, or so it seemed.

"I still think you're overdressed," Draco announced as dragged himself up from the couch once again.

"Not all of us think eating dinner shirtless is such a marvellous idea," she told him dryly.

Ginny's gaze was lingering a second too long on Draco's bare torso, satisfying Hermione's ego somewhat. However, it didn't seem to satisfy Harry's ego to the same degree and he clapped his hand over his fiancé's eyes and lead her against the kitchen.

"No one told me the free meal came with a complimentary half-naked Malfoy," Harry muttered, looking rather displeased.

"One of my many services," Draco grinned.

"Just put a t-shirt on, Draco," Hermione begged, knowing very well that Harry and Ginny (or rather...just Harry) weren't quite that comfortable around Draco yet.

She could see a smirk forming on his lips, and she knew he was going to put up a huge show just to get his way. Groaning inwardly, she cast a glance towards Harry who was still holding a wriggling Ginny under his steel grip. She suppressed the prude in her telling her to be embarrassed, and set her eyes straight on Draco. Under slightly lowered eyelids, she met his gaze and then slowly – very _slowly_ – pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. When she saw him still fighting the effect stubbornly, she pulled in the big guns and began sucking gently on her bottom lip, watching his resilience slip. She delivered a last devastating blow when the tip of her tongue darted out and gave a slow, tantalizing lick.

For a few seconds he just stood there, but then he huffed loudly.

"Damn you, Granger. _Damn you_," he growled before shooting up the stairs.

She whooped in victory, at least knowing she wasn't the only one reduced to a puddle once the other one turned their charm on.

"Nicely done," Harry noted, removing his hand from Ginny's eyes. "What's for dinner?"

"Fried chicken."

Harry and Ginny made sounds of appreciation and took their seat by the table as Draco came hurrying back down the stairs. He helped Hermione put the food on the table before they both took a seat, ready to launch at the meal.

"I'm starved," he groaned, attacking the chicken.

"Don't you feed the boy, Hermione?" Ginny asked, laughing.

"Only his ego."

Draco stuck his tongue out at her, and she rolled her eyes before smiling at her friends.

"Evelyn asked about you today," Harry said after they had all been eating in silence for a while. "She's missed having you drop by with permission forms."

Hermione looked up and beamed.

"It'll be good seeing them again soon. I miss work a lot. I'm still not used to not having anything particular to work on."

"I think Merewood is getting a bit impatient," Harry commented.

"Well, I'll be back soon enough, and I'll work four times as hard, so by the time I see him again he won't even remember I was gone."

"I saw Zabini too," Harry suddenly noted, giving Draco a glance.

"Blaise?" Draco repeated oddly, looking rattled.

Harry nodded in confirmation.

"They brought his father in for questioning on a few cases, and Zabini came in to check that he wasn't being charged with anything – which he isn't, by the way."

Draco looked down onto his plate and swallowed, a burning question seemed to rest on his tongue.

"Zabini looked good," Harry said, maybe noticing how the question seemed to crackle in the air between them. "He seems to be doing alright after he finished his punishment. I think he's one of the few we actually got through to."

Hermione broke into a smile at this.

"Maybe you should contact him, Draco."

"I don't think that's a good idea," he replied softly.

"He's probably going through a rough time if he just finished the punishment he received, and I think he could need you," she pushed, knowing how much it'd mean for Draco to get back in contact with someone he cared about.

"Just leave it. I betrayed him. He doesn't want anything to do with me; he made that perfectly clear when he tried to kill me on my first Order mission."

"A lot has happened since then, and you know it. Stop being so stubborn. He's your friend!"

"I don't have any friends back there anymore," he said calmly, stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork. "It's the prize I paid for doing the right thing."

"Look, I just know he'd appreciate –"

"Please, just stop!" he said intensely. "I've given up on this years ago."

She closed her mouth, looking defeated and sad, and she continued her meal in silence. Ginny gave her a sympathetic look and smiled carefully.

"He looks good, though," Harry repeated after an awkward cough.

"Well , he is a Slytherin. We always were devilishly handsome," Draco said, giving a lopsided smile.

Hermione frowned down at her plate, wondering why he always had to joke everything away. She didn't know how to approach him with the issues that lay ahead. If he had been willing to contact Blaise maybe he would've had a reason to return with her, but now she was certain he didn't – and that made things a lot more difficult than she cared to think about.

"Lavender Brown did have the biggest crush on you all through your 5th year," Ginny commented with a teasing grin.

"Really? Why didn't I know that? Damn, 5th year could've been so much more interesting," he said, then winced as Hermione punched him in the arm. "Ow, stop that!"

"Do not tell me you would've snogged Lavender Brown," she huffed.

Harry and Ginny were both signalling for Draco to deny it fiercely, but he seemed oblivious.

"Well, she was attr-" he began, but then suddenly saw Ginny waving her hand wildly in an attempt to stop him, "err - available. She was available."

"Is that all the standards you have?" she asked with an eyebrow raised.

Draco just laughed uncertainly, hoping his lack of answer would lay the topic dead.

"So, Ron and Lavender snogged their hearts out during our 6th year. You can't hate the girl forever," Harry commented, leaving Draco in a state of enlightenment.

"Just watch me," Hermione answered sweetly.

"Vindictive," Draco commented, arching an eyebrow.

Hermione just looked at him with a challenging expression urging him to try and cross her and he'd know just how vindictive she could be.

"Anyone up for dessert?" he just asked, rising from the chair and headed for the fridge. "It's just ice cream, though..."

"_Just_ ice cream?" Ginny asked. "Ice cream kicks the shit out of all desserts."

"Hell no, it can't beat sorbets," her fiancé retorted, leaving Draco to snort loudly.

"Sorbets? Merlin, you are such a _snob_!"

"Says the Malfoy," Harry said with his eyebrows raised.

"I may be a Malfoy, but even I don't prefer _sorbets_. Sorbet is ice cream for sissy boys."

"Well, you better bring your own dessert to the wedding, cause we're having sorbet," 'the boy who lived and liked to have his way' answered petulantly.

"Hey, I don't get to have a say on the matter?" Ginny asked. "I'm ...you know... the _bride_."

"Well, you'll make all the other decisions, so just let me have my bloody sorbet."

"Why can't you let people decide on their RSVP owls?" Draco inquired, as he scooped ice cream into 4 small and rather worn looking bowls. "We could check either chocolate chip ice cream delight or sour lemon snob sorbet."

"Cause I want to enlighten all our friends about the brilliance of sorbet," Harry said, grinning. "I'll eat ice cream in _your_ damn wedding."

Hermione was following the conversation quietly, her eyes suspiciously moist. And no, she hadn't been hit in the eye with a spoon; she was actually close to tears. They were talking to each other like bickering friends. Harry had told Draco he'd be eating sorbet as his wedding as if it was obvious that Draco would be invited. She could have jumped around in euphoria had it not been slightly odd in the situation. It was everything she had hoped for and more by bringing Harry and Ginny around so often.

Draco seemed to misjudge her silence, though, and he gave her a worried look as he handed Harry his ice cream with another insult about his snobbish taste. He made an elaborate movement when he gave his fellow ice cream-lover Ginny a much bigger portion than Harry had received. Hermione heard Harry complain about this, only to get laughter in return from the other two. Then suddenly Draco was behind her. He put her ice cream in front of her and she felt his breath on her neck. She nearly shuddered.

"I'm sorry," he said, giving her cheek a swift peck.

For what, she wasn't sure, but she smiled at him as he sat down again, trying to reassure him that she wasn't mad about anything at all.

"Mm, this is some _good_ ice cream," Ginny approved, licking her spoon clean.

"You're going to be the death of me," Harry groaned, leaving Hermione and Draco to wonder if he meant the fact that she hated sorbet or the fact that she was licking her spoon clean quite tantalizingly.

Ginny just snickered.

* * *

Draco did the dishes as Hermione were wiping them dry before putting them up in the cupboards. Ginny and Harry had called it a night, since they both had to get up early for work the following morning. 

"I really am sorry," he said softly as he handed her another plate.

"For what?" she asked perplexedly.

"You were only trying to help about Blaise, and I bit your head off."

"You don't have to apologize for that," she assured him, smiling slightly. "I don't pretend to know what you've been through, so I'm not going to push you into something you don't want to do. You know how I feel about it, but it's your decision."

"You're too good to be true," he told her, and made to tuck a curl behind her ear but then remembered his hands were wet.

"Well, I am fantastic," she confirmed with a cheeky smile.

She put down the plate she had been drying and pulled him into an embrace, resting her head against his chest. After hearing his heart pound wildly, she grinned and dipped her head back to claim his lips. She kissed him passionately while Draco held his arms straight out in front of him to not get her back wet.

* * *

**A/N II:** who can guess what happens next:O 

Anyway. Thanks a BUNCH to all reviewers. I turned 20 while I was writing on this thing and a new year came around. This chapter has seen a lot – nods eerily -


	19. The Pain

**Disclaimer: **Meh. I have to give back these characters once I'm done. –sniff-

* * *

_Chapter 19 // The __Pain_

He grimaced as she was sliding her hands along his head, trying to get his hair to co-operate.

"Now I get why you used to slick it down all the time," she noted, letting her arms fall to her sides just to watch his hair turn messy again.

"It's a right pain," he agreed, shaking his head slightly to get it to move. "But I'm just going to see Steve and Al; I doubt they mind that my hair is messy."

"It kind of looks better like this, anyway, I suppose" she admitted unwillingly, making him grin. "It looks effortless."

"Which is kind of ironic considering the effort you put in to get it to _not_ behave like this."

She laughed shortly, handing him his tailored black jacket. Her lips were pulled into a smile as she watched him put it on, messing his hair up even further.

"Have fun with the guys."

"I will," he promised, leaning in to give her a quick kiss. "We're invited for dinner at Miranda's tomorrow, so don't go inviting Freckles and Sorbet over."

She rolled her eyes and tried desperately to keep back a chuckle.

"I'll keep the afternoon clear," she said before she pushed him against the door. "You're going to be late. I'll see you tonight."

She waved him off before heading into the kitchen, trying to find out if there was anything she needed to head to the shop for. Opening the fridge, she found it about half full, noting that she was out of milk at least. She found a post it note and a pen and started scribbling down what she needed in an untidy scrawl. It was as she was as she closed the door that she heard definite footsteps coming from the other room. She looked up in confusion, not seeing anyone, but assumed it was Draco coming back for something he forgot.

"Draco, back so soon?" she asked loudly, writing _salad_ as the last thing on her grocery list.

No one answered, but she felt someone watching her and she looked up in confusion. She dropped her pen with a loud thud.

"Molly?!"

"Hey, dear," the Weasley mother said softly, looking almost pained. "It's been so long!"

Hermione didn't know what to say. Heck, she didn't know what to _feel_. It really had been long, but it was a reason for that, after all.

"We have missed you dearly, Hermione," she said, sounding choked.

She seemed to hold herself back, rooted to the spot by the door into the kitchen. Her mild eyes swept over Hermione as she stood, holding her post it note feebly in one hand.

"You look well."

"I feel well," Hermione forced herself to reply, her mouth feeling oddly dry. "It's been very good for me up here."

"Yes, Ginny said you were doing well," the older woman said. "I'm sorry ... – if I'm intruding. I've spent days persuading Harry to give me your address, and he finally caved. I see this has done you good, but I couldn't take it anymore. I can't let you hide from your life anymore because of what my son did to you."

"Molly..."

"- No, listen, please," Molly interrupted intensely. "You have a job. You have friends and a life, and now that you're doing so well, you need to come back. The more you let yourself run, the further you'll slip away from your life. If you let this go any further, it'll just get harder to come back."

"I'm coming back," Hermione assured her with a slightly forced smile, and then wondered why she wasn't even convincing herself.

"I know you want to come back, but I also know it's not easy. The longer you stay, the harder it will get. You need to come back now. You need to come back when you're strong and feel good about yourself, so you have the strength to face it all."

"I..I'm not... ready," Hermione said, the last coming as almost a whisper.

"I think you are. Look at you. You look healthier than ever, happy, strong. If there's any time to go back, it's now when you can show the world that you're doing just fine. And we miss you. Fred and George constantly ask about you, there's always an empty seat at our dinners, and no matter that you're no longer with Ron you're still a part of us," Molly exclaimed, taking several steps closer. "Don't run away from us. We've been your family for so long!"

"I know, and I miss you terribly. I do."

Hermione felt the tears forming, but she wasn't entirely sure why. A horrible thought growing in force kept telling her that Molly was right. She couldn't stay here forever, and if there was any time to come back it was when she was on top of the world. And to say that she wasn't ready was a lie, because in all honest truth there was only one thing keeping her from going. And the thought of leaving that one thing was forcing more tears forward.

"I have to admit something," Molly said, now putting her hand comfortingly around Hermione. "I sent you that issue of the Prophet."

When Hermione jolted in disgust and was about to wriggle free from her grip, Molly hurried to explain.

"I know it sounds horrible, but I wanted to help you get over it and face the truth. When you ran off, you ran away from what happened and what the realities were. And the realities are that my son is more cold-hearted than I care to admit. He moved on, and you should too. It was to help you understand that you had to leave him behind you, in more sense than just running across the country."

Hermione nodded feebly, knowing that in some strange way it had helped. It was what had made her open up to Draco, what started her process of healing. The thought of Draco pushed more tears coming, and Molly eyed her in worry.

"I have people here now," Hermione explained in a hushed voice. "People that I care about and have a life with. I don't know what to do."

"Do you want to go home?" Molly asked softly.

"I do. I never planned to stay here, and I still don't," she sniffed, drying her nose inelegantly on the sleeve of her shirt.

"Then maybe it's better to leave now, than to grow even closer to them before you have to leave," Molly suggested. "It's not my decision. If you want to stay, you can, but I had to come here and tell you all this. We miss you terribly, and you have a job you will lose if you don't return soon. And you're just making it harder for yourself by staying here so long."

Hermione screwed her eyes shut, knowing Molly was absolutely right. It was pain beyond anything she had felt before, but she had to go. It was only prolonging the suffering – for the both of them – to stay here as if the day of separation would never come. They were pretending to be the happy couple, almost living together as it was, and they both knew that was impossible as the situation was.

"Thank you, Molly," she whispered, "I appreciate you telling me what I needed to hear. I know that I'm hiding and making everything worse for me – for us both."

Molly didn't question who _both_ were, but seemed to sense that it wasn't a wise thing to pursue. Instead she hugged Hermione tightly.

"Tell me what you decide to do. I will help you with whatever you need," she told her, holding Hermione's gaze. "Good luck."

Hermione watched her back as she headed back into the living room and disappeared through the floo.

Hours later she was pacing back and forth in her own living room, having no idea what to do to ease the decision she had to make. Of course she knew Molly was right. She had to leave at some point. It was never her plan to stay here and the longer she stayed the more she lulled herself and Draco into comfortable ideas about living together that just weren't going to happen. He was set on staying here and she was set on going back to a new flat and her job in London. But it was so damn hard. She cursed herself as she used the palm of her hand to dry a lone tear.

Knowing it was the hardest and perhaps most stupid decision she had ever made – and was ever going to make, she headed up the stairs to her room. Slowly and almost unwillingly she lowered her suitcase onto the bed and put her clothes in one by one. She watched her belongings dive into the suitcase on their own accord under her spell, and couldn't help but compare it to the day she left Ron. The contrast was huge. She wasn't screaming or throwing her belongings into the suitcase. She wasn't angry or hurt. Instead, she was going to leave someone else angry and hurt, while her heart was so close to splitting in two she could already feel the dull ache starting to grow. And she hadn't even seen him yet.

That's when she knew she couldn't face him before she left. She had to go before he came back, or she didn't know if she could take it. Using her wand, she forced the last few items into it and closed the lid, clicking it shut. She dragged it down from the bed and began her descent of the staircase. Looking around, the place looked nearly as neat as it should have, but she decided to owl Miranda and ask if she could be so kind as to tidy up a bit before she gave the house over again. She couldn't very well hand it back if it still looked inhabited by her. She put the suitcase down on the floor, and sat down on it with a large sigh. Everything had seemed so much easier here. So many parts of her didn't want to leave, and she felt tears gathering behind her eyelids again. Knowing it wouldn't get any easier if she stayed here sitting on her suitcase, she got up and made her way to the floo.

Luck wasn't with her. The moment she put the suitcase down by the fireplace, she heard footsteps and a door slamming shut. She cursed in despair and looked around for the floo powder in desperation, knowing she couldn't see the look on his face as she left.

"I'm back," he called, and she heard him coming closer just as she found the bag with the powder. "Merlin, those guys are insane, but they sure as hell make things interesting."

It was too late. She couldn't get away. She watched him stop dead right inside her living room, staggering slightly. He had been drinking, but she noticed he wasn't drunk, just slightly tipsy. His mouth had fallen slightly open, his cheeks flushed from his alcohol induced state. His eyes fell to the suitcase by her feet, moving upwards to the bag of floo powder in her hand and finally finding her pained expression. She screwed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the pain flood his gorgeous gray eyes.

"What...the hell, Hermione," he growled, his voice cutting through her every bone.

"Draco, I didn't want-"

"You didn't want me to find you, is that it? You were just going to leave without a bloody word?!"

She buried her head in her hands, fighting the urge to fall to the floor as a sobbing mess.

"I don't want to say goodbye. I can't do this. I can't see you."

She was babbling, continuing to mutter how she couldn't face him.

"You couldn't wait? You couldn't wait a couple of lousy days before you picked up and left?" he asked with a quivering voice. "We've been doing perfectly. Lola's been off my back. Her mother thinks I dropped her cause she managed to blind herself with white wine, and I've just grown used to Freckles and Sorbet. Why did you have to do this _now?_"

"Don't you get it?" she cried, finally daring to look at him again where he stood, looking lost and confused. "We're fooling ourselves. I'm not going to stay here forever, and you have no plans to leave. We would have to be separated at some point, and why wait until we've grown closer? It'll only get harder and harder, until it comes to the point where we'd be ruined when the day came.

"I already let it get too far. I waited until we'd fallen in love with each other. I waited until we started to think we could actually have a life together."

She gave a short sob, but desperately tried to keep it inside.

"Who says we can't do this together?" he bellowed, his eyes shining with anger. "You're a lousy floo call away. Face it, Hermione. You're just running away from me, like a bloody coward."

"I am _not_ a coward," she hissed, looking furious. "Sure, for casual dating it could've worked. But you're deadly afraid of showing your face in London, so I'd never be able to take you anywhere. And what if we wanted to take it a step further? If we wanted to move in together or even get married? Should we live in different houses? Face it, Draco, it won't work."

"What does this say about us? That none of us will give in so we can be together? How much can you really love me if you won't even give up London to be with me?" he shouted, and Hermione felt as if he'd slapped her.

"I have a _job_. I can't give up my income and my career, what would I do? I don't have fortunes stacked up in Gringotts to just use as it pleases me. I need to work for a living. I have a _life_ in London that I miss. And Merlin help me – I love you, Draco, but I can't alienate myself from my life.

"And you? What does it say about _you_? You don't have anything keeping you here, except your friends and Miranda. All that keeps you from coming with me is your fears. You're afraid, Draco Malfoy, just face it. Afraid of facing those you betrayed and afraid of facing those who still thinks you haven't changed. If anyone is a coward here, it sure as hell isn't me!"

He was shaking with fury now, but she couldn't care less. She was angry, hurt and scared. He could be as angry as he bloody well pleased, but she knew she was right.

"So this is it then? Those are your parting words? This is the end?"

"I suppose it is," she said in a cold voice, refusing to meet his intense gaze. "If you refuse to get your act together and come with me, this is it."

"I hope you know what you've given up on, _Granger_. I hope you'll lie awake at night thinking about what could've been."

The words struck her like lightening, embedding themselves in the core of her being. She wanted to scream with desperation and rage at how cruel life was, and how spot on his parting words were. Her body felt as if it was slowly decaying, and she had to get out of there before she fell apart at the seams.

"Likewise," she told him, one traitorous tear leaking free. "I hope you lie awake in your big, empty bed only finding your bloody fears to keep you company. I hope it's worth it, Draco; hiding. Maybe someday you'll find that running from your problems won't help in the long run, and you'll see why I had to go back and face mine."

His face was hard as stone – no, as marble; perfectly cut, white marble. But his eyes were as transparent as his face was closed, they shone with every ounce of grief that undoubtedly raced inside him at that point, and she felt it wash over herself at the same moment, hitting her like a well-aimed curse. She saw him blink rapidly, and knew that she could not survive seeing Draco Malfoy shed any tears for their lost relationship. That would have been the end of her.

She turned her back and took the deepest breath she could manage before heading into the fireplace, calling for Ginny and Harry's flat.

It was the second time in only a few months that she came tumbling through the floo into their living room with a suitcase in tow and a broken relationship in her wake. It was almost slightly morbid. Here she was, killing relationships left and right, and Harry and Ginny were the ones picking up the pieces for her. It was so different this time. It wasn't a sobbing, blubbering mess that came through the fireplace and stepped onto the hardwood floors. It wasn't an unbelievable pain from being rejected and betrayed. Instead, she was broken to the core of her very being. The pain was a monumental, enormous burden on her considerably small frame, too large to even comprehend. She wasn't sobbing. A few tears were breaking free as his words resonated through her head, but she was too numb – too shaken to her core to really break down.

She set her suitcase down, pushing it against the wall. Suddenly she was sitting on their couch, not even remembering how she got there. Angrily, she rubbed her tears away, wondering if the past months were going to fade away as a distant blur once she got back to her old life. Merlin, she hated her damn life and all its cruel twists and turns. She had fallen in love with Draco Bloody Malfoy and realised that things hadn't always been what they seemed, and not it had all been ripped away just because they were both too stubborn to give in. Her head suddenly jerked up as she heard someone giggle, and her face twisted into a slightly pained grimace – which was actually meant to resemble a smile – when Harry and Ginny came tumbling in from the hallway, nearly eating each other up along the way.

Ginny suddenly caught a movement from the corner of her eye and jumped in surprise, only to look horribly worried when she saw Hermione sitting on their couch, hunching forwards with her hands clasped awkwardly in her lap.

"Why did you give my damn meddling mother her address, you jerk," Ginny cried, punching Harry's arm. "Look what she's done!"

Harry gave a sad smile, not knowing what to say.

"What did she make you do? Go back to Ron? I'll kill her," Ginny growled, looking positively livid.

"She didn't make me do anything, Gin. Please, don't get angry," Hermione said tiredly, wringing her hands restlessly. "She came to talk to me, and she said all the things that have been on my mind for ages. I can't lead myself or Draco on any longer – I was always planning to come home at some point, and lately we've both been ignoring that as good as we can. We've been trying to pretend that if we were just happy enough, I would never have to leave. But I do. I have to face things sooner or later, I can't just run forever."

Ginny looked slightly less angry, but she shook her head.

"This is a mistake, Hermione. I know it is. You two are perfect for each-"

"Gin," Harry said warningly, sitting down next to Hermione and put his arm around her. "This isn't what Hermione needs to hear right now."

Ginny shook her head again and closed her eyes, looking as if she was debating herself. She seemed to have come to a conclusion, because she kept her mouth shut and sat down on the couch on the other side of Hermione. The three of them sat there in silence, until Hermione shuddered slightly from all the unshed tears.

"I didn't want to face him before I left. I tried to leave before he came home, but he caught me right before I flooed out of there. I could see how much I hurt him, and I could hardly stand it. And then we started yelling, blaming each other for our relationship failing. He called me Granger in his last words to me before I left. It's almost like it never happened."

She let out a whimper and hid her face in her hands.

"It's almost like we are still enemies, like none of this never happened," she whispered, feeling the memories fade as she spoke.

Ginny rubbed her back, and tried not to show how much she hated the turn of events.

"You can stay here until you find your own place," she assured her. "And we'll help you find an affordable flat, don't worry."

Harry helped her upstairs, and left her lying limply on her bed. She assured him she would be just fine, and he needn't stay in the room to keep her company.

He did as she wished, and left the room silently, heading back down to find Ginny pacing on the floor, looking angrier by the second.

"Gin..."

"Fuck it all!" she cried, throwing her hands up in the air. "Why did my mum have to go and put stupid thoughts in her head?!"

"It would've happened eventually anyway," he said tiredly, and fell back onto the couch with a sigh.

"She was _happy_, Harry. Happy! She was happier than Ron has ever made her, and she deserved it. This is a horrible mistake, and I can't just sit by and let her make it."

"I know she was happy, but she's right: how can they work when they want to live on separate parts of the country? They're both too stubborn."

"We have to fix this. I can't just sit around and let this happen."

"It's not our business, Gin."

"Oh, but it is. She's our friend, and quite frankly Draco is too. I will not let the two nitwits ruin their lives like this. We all know they're perfect for each other," she rambled, her eyes nearly setting fire to their living room with determination.

Harry gave a reluctant nod.

"Yes, they are surprisingly compatible."

"She's our friend, Harry. We can't let her stay unhappy for the rest of her life because they're too stupid to see what's right in front of them. Please, Harry, say you'll help me with this."

"Alright," he relented. "If you can find a way to help without being as meddling as your _mother_, I promise I'll help you."

"I am _not _like my mother," she said fiercely, scowling at him.

"No, not at all," he replied dryly, watching her plot how she could save Hermione's failed relationship.

* * *

**A/N:** I am so horribly sorry, you guys. Don't kill me :( 


	20. The Office

**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling is awesome, and so am I, but I think that's where the likeness stops.

**A/N:** You have no idea how good it feels to update this again! I have felt so sorry for the people who have watched me update 'What if You...' everyday cause it's pre-written, and then waiting patiently for me to update here. This is a new phase of this story, and I hope it doesn't disappoint.

----

_Chapter 20 // __The__ Office_

Hermione pulled her curtains shut with a sour grimace, hoping the sun noticed just how menacing her glare was. A playful beam still found its way through a narrow opening and shone upon a small part of her patterned bedcover. She scowled. She scowled very menacingly. It was a superb example of a scowl.

_Take that evil sunbeam for daring to mock me!_

The sun was just breaking every universal rule. It wasn't supposed to be a beautiful, sunny and surprisingly warm November day when you were all alone, bitter, heartbroken and thoroughly pissed off at life in general. That's when you needed the dramatic thunder roaring overhead, merciless wind, harsh rain and lightening striking across the sky with crackling anger. It was supposed to match your damn mood, not remind you that the world hardly cared that your heart was no longer held together – not even by Gaffa Tape.

She muttered angrily to herself and left Harry's guestroom to _bask_ in the _bloody_ cheerful sun. Ginny and Harry had already left for early meetings, but had left some coffee for her that she launched herself at with vigour. Blissful coffee. She sighed and sat down by the kitchen table, drinking the black piece of heaven in as large gulps as she could without burning a hole in her tongue. Taking a deep breath, she opened the Prophet and found her way to the advertisements, knowing it was time to look around for a reasonably cheap flat. When she ran off she had willingly handed Ron the other one, which was something she regretted deeply at the moment. It wasn't like he deserved to get anything for free from her. She would have to bring that up the next time she saw him. It amazed her how the thought of seeing him again wasn't nearly as frightening as before. She had no issues telling him off if she saw him again, whereas before she would run in the other direction if she saw as much as a flicker of red anywhere.

She circled a few ads and flipped through a few more pages in the Prophet only to stop and stare with her mouth hanging open. It seemed that the Daily Prophet was _basking_ in her dirty laundry, so to speak. Yet another picture of Ron, this time accompanied by a gorgeous brunette, was on the gossip pages undoubtedly written by Rita Skeeter or one of her equally horrible heirs. She saw her own name written somewhere in the article she skimmed, but didn't bother to read the context. It was probably something about her being dumped and thrown away like garbage, not to be seen since. Well. It was time to make an appearance and really give them something to talk about.

The prophet remained folded on the table, open at the page of the ads, as she swung a coat over her work robes picking up a dry piece of toast on her way to the Floo. She bit into the toast as she pulled her hair up into a loose twirl, and stepped into the fireplace. She removed her toast from between her teeth just long enough to call for the Ministry, and soon found herself in the busy Atrium on the 8th level of the Ministry of Magic. She went blissfully unnoticed in the crowd as she munched happily on her dry piece of toast, following the wave of people heading towards the 12 elevators. The months with Draco may well have been the best months of her entire life, but she knew she had missed work immensely. She just hoped she had work to come back to, considering her holiday had turned a bit longer than she planned it to be.

She pressed herself into an already full elevator, being the last person to make it before the doors slammed shut.

"Hermione?!" someone cried from the back of the elevator, and she turned to see Evelyn Barley from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement waving enthusiastically at her.

"Hey!" she greeted and smiled back.

"I'm so pleased to see you back. The girls and I have been so worried that you'd just disappear because of that stupid git."

Hermione chuckled appreciatively, avoiding the curious glances from the rest of the people in the elevator. It stopped on the 7th level and many people stepped out, excusing themselves as they bumped into her.

"Oh no, I'm not that easy to get rid of," she assured Evelyn, brushing some crumbs off her cloak. "I just needed some time off to sort myself out."

"Good for you," the blonde beamed, but then her smile faltered slightly when she made her way to Hermione in the front. "You know... Cyan dated him for a couple of weeks. Everyone thought she was being completely insensitive of course, but she was so star struck. I don't get how she can do that when she knows you, and everyone who knows you know you deserve so much better."

The expected sting of jealousy never came. She didn't know if it even surprised her. She had been over Ron for a long time. Now if Evelyn came and told her that Cyan was dating Draco, then there would be hell to pay.

"It's okey. Well, it _is_ pretty inconsiderate of her, but I'm fine. Ron and I aren't together anymore and I don't want to be," she assured Evelyn in a lowered voice, hoping that at least as few as possible were following their conversation.

"I'm glad you're not still pining after him."

Hermione nodded silently, and looked at her friend's face, finding it almost surreal to be back. It was almost as if she never left at all, and that the past months were only a figment of her imagination. Except the steady pain in her chest told her it had definitely been real, and the bittersweet feeling of being back was almost a bit overwhelming. She said her goodbyes to Evelyn as the other girl stepped out on level 2 – the Auror Headquarters – knowing both Ron and Harry would be there, unless they were out on call.

She got out on the ground floor – the Potions Headquarters being underneath the ground for security reasons – and stepped through the hallway as she had so many times before. It was so familiar, but somehow it wasn't the same anymore. But the hallways hadn't changed, so that had to mean _she_ was the one who had changed.

As the hallway lead into a large circular room with a high ceiling, she stopped right inside. A grin flickered across her lips as she watched the bustling activity, the cauldron's bubbling and hissing, fumes rising towards the ceiling several feet over their heads.

She was...

"- Back! She's back!" someone cried.

Hermione watched in bewilderment as four of her colleagues threw themselves into some kind of spontaneous victory dance. They jumped around in a circle, shouting and singing – at least she thought it was supposed to resemble singing.

"Oh Merlin has bestowed his merciful magic upon us," Awon Locke cried, falling to his knees and raising his wandhand against the sky.

Hermione's eyes were growing wide and her jaw dropped at the scenes in front of her, and she was almost knocked off her feet by Miriam who embraced her so forcefully it nearly hurt.

"Oh, sweet, merciful Merlin."

"What in the _world_ are you guys doing?!" Hermione exclaimed, completely baffled at the welcome.

"Merewood has been throwing one enormous hissy fit since the day you started your vacation," her assistant Adam noted from his spot – which happened to be on a desk, and he was obviously interrupting his celebration to explain the matter to his employer.

"And he has absolutely no clue how this place is run. If anyone were in doubt about you being the real boss around here, they were certainly convinced now," Miriam said, her voice muffled against Hermione's cloak as she still clutched on.

"We're so behind, and the other departments are getting mighty peeved. None of them are getting the potions they need on time because Merewood has no idea how to organize the workload."

"The others are getting so mad at us that they won't even eat lunch at the same table as us anymore," Christy said darkly. "It's been utter _hell_."

Hermione blinked, and suddenly grew aware of the fact that the room seemed to be rather chaotic, and not at all like she usually ran it. Of course she had been aware that Merewood was only their symbolic head. She was the Potions Master, and even if he ran the department he really did notably small amounts of work. She had, however, thought he would actually know how to run it when her absence was imminent. That was clearly not the case.

She finally managed to pry Miriam off herself, and the room had gone from bursting with spontaneous joy to become eerily quiet. They all looked at her now, where she stood still rooted to the floor by the entrance. She took her cloak off and threw it onto a nearby chair, and then slowly pushed the sleeves of her robe up her arms.

Her colleagues cheered as she moved hastily towards Merewood's office, but it was immediately drowned out as she entered and closed the door behind her.

"Finally decided to come back, did you, Ms. Granger?"

His voice was calm and slightly patronizing, but she did not let it stop her as she moved towards his desk.

"I hadn't had a proper holiday since I started working here, and for some unexplainable reason I seemed to think you were competent enough to run the place while I was gone."

Her tall supervisor, who looked somewhat decent considering his age, looked down upon her with a hard stare.

"Need I remind you that I am your department head, Ms. Granger?"

"No," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest. "But for once I'm going to tell you exactly what I think about the situation, regardless of the fact that you are my supervisor. You are the head of the Department of Potions, Mr. Merewood, and yet you could not keep the department up to par for 3 months.

"The workroom is utter chaos, other departments are waiting for potions they should have received weeks ago and your employees are being ignored by the rest of the Ministry because they cannot deliver the merchandise. Which – I might add – is none of their fault, because the entire chaos starts in the lack of administrative control."

She picked up a stack of papers and held it out for him.

"You haven't even delivered the permission forms for potions that I know from experience should have been delivered at the beginning of this month. So you might be my department head, Mr. Merewood, but you obviously do not know how to run the department efficiently. So you may be angry at me for taking a well deserved holiday, but now I am back and I intend to straighten up this mess immediately."

His eyes were hard as steel, and he turned to face her completely.

"Do remember the Ministry Charity Dance. It is of utmost importance that employees high up in the system make an excellent impression on the public and the media."

His tone told her their conversation was over, and she was somewhat relieved. She had told him off – something she had longed to do for a _very_ long time – and yet she had gotten away with it. Not that he seemed to have much choice, considering he was completely incompetent.

She grabbed the permission forms from his desk and left without another word.

"Listen up!" she shouted, grabbing the attention of all the workers. "We are severely behind and we have a lot of work to do. We _will_ catch up, but we'll need to work our arses off in the process.

"Adam and Miriam; I will need an overview of what potions are brewing already, what you've managed to send out during these months and what you still have left. Everyone else work on what you are already doing, and I will be back after I've filed all the permission forms."

She left them all scurrying in all directions and headed back to the elevator with determined steps. Yes, the permission forms had to be filed with the Office of Spell and Potion Regulation. Yes, the Office of Spell and Potion Regulation was an office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. And yes, that was indeed where the Auror Headquarters resided. She almost cursed out loud. But she had to remind herself that she was back because she felt strong enough to handle it now. She wasn't going to let him restrict her life. And she had to see him again someday, considering his family was like a second family to her and always had been.

The elevator brought her to level two in only moments and she was followed by a tail of memos as she left, holding her head high as she stepped through the hallways in her work robe, the Potions Master seal on her chest distinguishing her from the Law Enforcement employees. They knew her well here, as she very regularly had to drop off permission applications and of course since her famous ex-boyfriend and her even more famous best friend both had prominent positions in the Department. Normally she found it added even more respect to her name amongst them, but now it was only a source of unnerve as she felt herself being ogled from every office she passed.

Finally she found the Office of Spell and Potion Regulation and slipped inside, letting out a breath of relief that she didn't know she had held captive.

"Hey, Eve," she sighed, stepping up to the desk and put the large stack of forms right in front of the blonde who hastily looked up from her paperwork by the sound of her nickname.

Her mouth fell open as she saw the abnormally large stack of forms, and she eyed Hermione in sympathy.

"Merlin, I knew you were behind, but not _this_ behind," she breathed, taking the stack and put it on top of her already semi-large pile.

"Merewood is an incompetent arse," Hermione told her dryly. "The entire department is in an uproar; with so many potions not delivered to their departments yet that I hardly know what to do with myself. And I haven't even checked on the research section yet."

"That man should've been sacked years ago. Everyone knows you're the one keeping that department on its feet."

"Well, unfortunately I can't do much about it," Hermione sighed. "I did give him a piece of my very frustrated mind after the initial chaos had settled."

"Good. He should know that he can't just prance around doing more harm than good," Evelyn said firmly. "Maybe we can start sitting with your lot again now."

"Yeah, what is that anyway? Refusing to sit with them at lunch?" Hermione said, allowing a smile onto her lips. "How very mature."

"It started with someone being completely pissed off for not having the potions for their top priority project and it just sort of spiralled out of control," she admitted with a sad shrug. "Maybe this stupidity can end now."

"You're bloody right it's going to end."

Evelyn chuckled as Hermione left the room and hasted down towards the elevators, knowing very well that her day was not going to be a very pleasant one.

Just how unpleasant it was about to turn she had been blissfully unaware of, but the realisation was dawning on her _very_ quickly as an alarmingly red head nearly collided into her as it came propelling out of an office.

"Bloody hell, I'm so sorry... I need to start paying attention to my damn clumsy feet," Ron growled, picking up the papers he had dropped in the process.

He looked up with a lopsided grin and she could see why the girls were easily charmed. She was as immune against his so-called charm as you could be, but the horrified expression that replaced his grin upon seeing the target of his apologies wouldn't have charmed the silliest fan girl anyway.

"Shit," he eloquently exclaimed, his eyes quickly tearing themselves from her and fell to the floor.

"Yes, 'shit' pretty much covers it," she said dryly, inwardly cursing the universe, the cosmos, Merlin or whoever it was that controlled their unfortunate fates.

"You're back," he noted breathlessly – and rather unnecessarily.

"Yes," she replied, nearly blown away by his amazing wit.

"Um... I hope you had a good holiday."

_Oh, crud. _How she hated small talk.

She smiled sweetly.

"It was magnificent. I see you've been doing well too. Saw you in the Prophet just this morning."

His telltale ears reddened furiously at this statement, and he shuffled uncomfortably.

"I was looking for flats," she continued in a falsely cheerful voice. "You know... since I'm pretty much homeless."

At the badly disguised bitterness his cheeks adapted the same colour as his ears.

"You could always...have my room at The Burrow, you know," he said silently, daring to glance at her quickly.

She laughed at this, making him twitch slightly – clearly paranoid under the circumstances. The genuine quality of her laugh seemed to put him off guard.

"That really is very generous of you, but I think that'd be just as awkward as – oh I don't know – this conversation."

He smiled slightly at that, and as she began to walk away he let out a sigh, thinking he had been let off the hook.

"Plus I'm quite sure you need that room to store the poor girl you're keeping on hold while you're having your way with the girl from the Prophet."

She grinned to herself as she walked away without a backwards glance, finding a sick pleasure in the fact that he didn't even bother her anymore. But Holy Mother of all stupid things holy, that was _awkward_. She turned around as she entered the elevator, seeing him walk in the opposite direction. The doors closed, shielding him from view and she relaxed as she was brought down to ground level again.

----

It was a horrid day. When Adam and Miriam gave her the list over which potions were done and which were not even started, she realised the situation was even worse than she had thought. She spent the entire morning running around the potions lab shouting directions and checking on every individual potion, as well as trying to prioritize what was most important to get out first. She hadn't had the time to think a single thought, and when lunch came she was so exhausted she didn't even bother to go up to the lunch room

She brushed off her colleagues' invitations to come for lunch, and sauntered into her own office which she hadn't had the time to even look at since she came back. The oval room looked exactly like she had left it; organized and impersonal. She dropped a stack of mind-numbing paperwork onto her desk and closed her eyes with a sigh. Knowing the office at the back of her hand, she managed to make her way to her chair with her eyes still closed and flopped down into it, drawing her hands over her eyes.

She noticed the thoughts she had blocked out slipped into her mind together with a numbing feeling of fatigue. Merlin, she was so tired. It was too much. She hadn't realised the department would've been run into the fiery pits of hell, and that she would be the one to bring it back on its feet all on her own. In addition to trying to get back on track she had been dealing with employees from other departments, angry and frustrated for getting their projects delayed due to the lack of the mandatory potions.

Giving a tired huff she bent forwards onto the desk and rested her head on her arms. Immediately, she felt something hard being pressed between her desk and her stomach. She looked up in confusion and eased a hand into her pocket. The item she held up before her eyes broke the last of her resistance against all the thoughts, and the image of a very blond head and a playful smile swam before her eyes. The image of him blurred even more when stubborn tears broke their way out from beneath her eyelids and slid slowly down her cheeks flushed from exhaustion. It was the curse detector she had put in her work robes when she packed her bags.

Oh God. Her body and her mind collapsed and she found herself giving wretched sobs, filling the silence of her office with sounds of grief. She was so tired – from working so hard, from meeting Ron, from trying to suppress the feelings of loss that threatened to overcome her. Her traitorous mind imagined long, slender fingers rubbing against her shoulders; strong, firm palms working on her shoulder blades; tender, comforting words whispered into her ear; warm, heavenly lips against sore spots where her neck met her shoulder. Her sobs stilled, but the tears ran more rapidly; silently. She should've never come back. She should've let Merewood wallow in the mess he made; she shouldn't have been practically homeless. She shouldn't have been so fucking alone.

She heard her office door open, though she hadn't heard the knock, and she hastily dried her tears as she was resting her head in her palms as her elbows were propped up on the desk. Harry stood in the doorway, watching her intently as she ran her fingers across her cheek to dry them. He closed the door tentatively behind him and sat down in the chair right opposite her without a word.

"I'm fine," she proclaimed, her voice quivering slightly from the tears.

"Yes, you look like you're doing marvellous," he said flatly.

She didn't look at him.

"I heard you ran into Ron," he told her quietly, and continued despite her efforts to stop him: "I know it's hard. I really do, but you can't let him break you."

"I'm not upset because of Ron. I haven't even thought about him since I met him, and meeting him was just awkward above anything else.

"I'm just so exhausted. The department is in such a mess, and I've been doing almost a week's worth of work before lunch alone. And then I found this."

She held out the curse detector for him. He took it, looking perplexed.

"It's the curse detector I got from Draco for my birthday," she whispered, fighting the tears again.

Harry put it down on her desk gently and sighed.

"I can't believe I was so stupid to think you were crying over Ron. Of course you're having a hard time being away from – err... you know."

"It's just so much at once. Look at this list, Harry, just look at all the work we haven't done," she exclaimed, thrusting the overview of their status into his hand.

Harry took the list and then gaped as his eyes roamed towards the bottom.

"Merlin's beard, this is inhumane!"

"I know!" she cried, burying her face in her hands. "And I've had people from other departments dropping by to yell at me for not bringing them their potions on time, at the same time as I'm trying to catch up on everything at once."

"Merewood should get his arse kicked," Harry fumed. "He hasn't done shit since you left!"

"I'm well aware. I thought they had actually gotten something done, at least, but he hasn't sent off the permission forms, so the others couldn't even start most of the potions. It's actually easier to list what we _have_ sent off, instead of what we haven't."

"You should figure out if you can have some help to catch up. Maybe someone extra can be hired for a few weeks," Harry suggested, watching Hermione's drawn face in concern.

"I don't think they can do that, not when it's seemingly our own fault. They can't know – or _won't_ know – how incompetent that moron is, and that none of the employees have done anything wrong."

"I'd love to help, but ... well, you sat beside me in Potions," he said with a sad shrug, putting the parchment back on her desk.

She gave a small chuckle at that, and then took a deep breath to calm her rapid pulse.

"I'll just have to work overtime. Can you tell Gin I'm sorry for not making it to dinner?"

"We'll save you some," he promised, and when she objected he proclaimed that there would be no discussion. "Speaking of which, I have a sandwich for you that I smuggled from lunch."

"Oh thank you," she groaned, taking it eagerly. "All I've had since this morning is a piece of dry toast."

"You're overworking yourself," he stated simply as he rose from his seat.

She didn't reply, knowing he was most likely right. He moved towards the door, and she put her sandwich down, looking at him as he opened the door to slip out.

"Harry..."

He turned, looking at her questioningly.

"Why did I leave?" she asked in a mere whisper, once again picturing slender fingers massaging her tense shoulders.

He gave a sad smile.

"I don't know, Hermione," he replied, looking at his broken friend where she sat hunching by her desk. "But they need you here, that much is evident."

"Yes," she replied slowly, "they need me here."

The moment he closed the door her head fell onto her arms again, and she closed her eyes to just a second allow herself to dream about a faraway place, where they were having dinner in their pyjamas and the man she loved were bickering good -naturedly with her best friends.

Harry left the room, more determined than ever to fix this mess. Yes, they needed her here, but that didn't mean it was fair. Hermione always put others first and he was beginning to realise how much that really cost her.

----

**A/N:** This chapter was _so_ hard to write. It's a completely different setting, and I need to know if you guys think it still flows with the rest. And I'm nearly crying, cause I hate doing things like this to my characters. This is why I could never be JK Rowling :(


	21. The Plan

**_Disclaimer_**: Despite spending about as much time on this chapter as JK Rowling spends writing an entire book, the similarities stop there. I'm not JK Rowling and my life otherwise quite sucks.

_**A/N:**_ Look who it is! Yes yes, it's me. My trial version of Microsoft Office ran out, so I was at wit's end about what to do for a while. I found a crappy replacement, but it's not actually motivating me to write. -sighs-. Nevertheless, Chapter 21 is here. It's very different, though, because I had to get different points of view to get the plot to work.

----

_Chapter 21 // The Plan_

"Did you see her?" Ron asked casually – perhaps too casually – as Harry took his seat by the desk opposite him.

"Yeah," he answered quietly, keeping his gaze fixed on a spot on his messy desk, so very unlike the one in Hermione's office.

Ron frowned at him, waiting for a more in-depth answer, only to realise Harry was deep in his own world. He waved a hand in front of his co-Auror, getting no response.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, making Harry's head jerk up. "You alright, mate?"

"She wasn't doing too well," Harry reluctantly revealed. "When I came down there she was pretty much in tears."

"Harry, I didn't do anything, you have to believe me. I just met her and if anything _she _insulted me..."

"Oh, don't flatter yourself," Harry bit, looking disbelievingly at Ron. "You honestly don't think she was crying over _you_ after all this time."

He refrained from revealing that he had thought that himself for a fleeting second, and grinned when Ron had the decency to blush.

"I hope you're not trying to get back on that train, cause it has definitely left you standing behind looking pretty bad."

"Oh thank you, mate, that's so nice of you."

Ron looked slightly uncomfortable, and his gaze fell to the desk leaving Harry to eye him in disbelief.

"Oh _bloody_ hell, Ron, you can't be serious!"

"I just don't know if I made a mistake that's all," Ron whined, throwing his hands up. "I don't love her, and I don't think I want her back, but sometimes it feels like one huge mistake."

"Don't go there," Harry warned, suddenly looking a tad more murderous than normal. "Her department has gone to the Hippogriffs, she's swamped with work that should've been done while she was gone and she's had a hard time since she came back. You will _not_ dare to make this harder on her."

"Look, it may be my only chance to see if I really made the right call," Ron begged, but sealed his mouth shut when he saw Harry's eyes darken dangerously.

"You cheated on my best friend, and because I have to work with you and because I know that deep, deep, _deep_ down under all that idiocy and insensitivity you're somewhat alright, I have decided to let it go and try to be normal. But if you rip open the wounds again, I will hurt you."

Ron looked gobsmacked.

"She's over you, Ron. You broke her heart and she got past it, and you _will not_ put us all back to square one," he hissed, and when Ron made to speak he held up his hand. "You don't love her. You don't want her back. The only reason you're regretting this is cause you've just seen her again after all this time, and that's bound to be a bit confusing. But you _know_ that you don't love her, and she doesn't love you either anymore, so spare us all the damn pain."

"Has she found someone else?" Ron asked, his expression not giving away any emotions.

"If she had she's in her full right. You're not together anymore, remember?"

"You're not serious are you?! She's with someone else already?" Ron shrieked, several of their colleagues turning their heads.

"You enormous git, you started dating _before_ you broke up with her. You don't have anything to say on the matter."

Ron was prohibited from answering when Tonks passed by their desk and threw a folder of paperwork in front of Ron before turning towards Harry.

"Zabini's here to see you, Harry."

She continued on to her own desk after Harry said his 'thank you's, and Ron eyed him suspiciously.

"Why just you? We're on that case together."

"I have no idea; I haven't talked to him yet, remember?" Harry replied, maybe a bit too flippantly.

He left his enormous git of a friend at the desk sighing over a folder of meticulous paperwork and headed for interrogation room 5, where he knew Zabini was waiting. He paused outside the door, wondering if he was actually doing this. Telling himself firmly it was not for himself, he took a deep breath and opened the door finding Zabini sitting straight in his chair. He looked up, his eyebrow arching almost unnoticeably at Harry.

Harry closed the door and made sure it was safely locked.

"You called for me, Potter?" he drawled lazily, but Harry could see the flicker of worry in his eyes as he sat down opposite him. "I was under the impression my father and I were in the clear."

Harry swallowed, knowing he was using ministry business for his own gain.

"It's not about the case," he muttered, meeting Zabini's look of shock. "I need your help."

"You need...my help," the Slytherin said, his jaw dropping slightly.

"Will you promise me this gets out to no one?" Harry said intently. "If you help me and tell this to no one, there will be no more follow ups on your father or you."

Zabini looked at him wide-eyed, and then after a moment's consideration he nodded.

Harry took a deep breath, knowing he had some explaining to do.

"I know you've changed your ways, Zabini. You're probably one of the only ones who have actually seen the error of your previous ways."

The man opposite him gave a slight nod in recognition.

"That's why I need you to talk to Draco Malfoy for me."

Had it not been for the severity of the request, Harry would have laughed at the outright crazed expression on Zabini's face.

"Hermione... Granger, you know. She and Ron broke up and she took a well deserved holiday where she ended up being Draco Malfoy's neighbour," he explained and gave a hearty laugh at Zabini's more and more frazzled expression. "yeah, that's what we looked like too at first.

"Oddly enough... Hermione and furball seemed to be getting along very – _very_ – well."

"Are you trying to tell me Draco and Granger shagged?!" Zabini cried, and then howled with laughter, holding his side as he hunched forwards.

"Yes," Harry said, wincing at the memory of finding that pale git in her living room. "But it didn't stop there either. They've fallen for each other – pretty hard, might I add. It's the only time I've heard albino boy utter the l-work."

"_Love_?!"

Harry gave short nod, leaving Zabini with his mouth open.

"wow, that's... very unlike Draco."

"He has changed a lot since the last time you saw him."

"I don't doubt that at all, but I've changed too."

"See, that's part of the problem. Hermione had to move back here to get back to her job, and Malfoy the stubborn git is convinced everyone thinks he's still evil and that all his old friends – which I guess is pretty much just you – hates him for betraying them. So he won't go back to London at all, and right now Hermione is working her arse off to get the department back on its feet at the same time as she's completely heartbroken."

"I always was very happy to never have to get involved in the Gryffindor drama," Zabini commented, but then gave a slight grin. "But it does sound kind of amusing, and considering Draco managed to butt his furry, white arse into it..."

Harry gave a snort of laughter, marvelling at how well furry and white described Malfoy.

"I need you to go speak to him, and make him understand he'll be better off coming back to London," he then said in a low voice. "She can't leave the department, it's in a mess, but she really needs him. I can't stand to see her like this, and as much as I hate to admit it they are frighteningly suitable for each other."

"The truth is you have actually helped _me_ more than you think with this proposition," Zabini vocalized after a few moments of silence. "I've been looking for Draco for ages trying to set things right between us."

"Does that mean you'll do it?"

"I'm in."

Harry slid him a parchment with the address scribbled in a scrawny handwriting.

"Not a word."

----

Hermione's third day back at work hadn't shown any improvement in the situation at all. Her so called boss still wasn't doing anything at all to help speed things up, and she had everything piling up on top of her shoulders. Whenever she got something out of the way, something new came in and piled itself onto her with sudden force. She stepped out of the Floo of Harry and Ginny's flat – once again late for dinner – and she sank exhaustedly into an armchair. She had only been seated for mere seconds when she heard angry voices coming from the kitchen.

"- no business going over there and drag her away like you did!"

"She had been there for almost 3 months. It would only get harder if she kept postponing her return."

"Why is that up to _you_ to decide, _Mother_? She's been in utter hell since she got back, her department in shreds from her incompetent boss, Ron being a git, not having any place to live..."

"She is my family, _Ginevra_. I don't want her to sit at the other side of the country without any of us in her lives like some shunned criminal."

"But this isn't about what _you_ want! Hermione was happy, mum. She was carefree and content and she was in love"

"In love? She said she'd met someone, but..."

"Yes, mum, in love. She fell in love with her neighbour. Harry and I were over there for dinner several times, and they were doing perfectly. Now she's dealing with her second break up in mere months, and this time she was actually still very much in love with him when she had to leave."

"She's better off here. She belongs here, Ginny."

"She's _miserable_. She's overworked, heartbroken and homeless."

Hermione didn't hear Molly's answer. She didn't need to, because Ginny was right. She was overworked, heartbroken and homeless. And now she was thirsty. Not caring that the two Weasley women were having a screaming match in the kitchen, she walked right in and headed for the fridge for a bottle of water.

"Hey," Ginny said softly, shooting her mother a warning look that Hermione saw perfectly fine. "I saved you some dinner."

"Thank you so much," she replied with a groan, and flopped down beside the kitchen table.

She took a large sip of her water and then smacked her head down on the table, wanting to sleep right then and there.

"It's not getting any better?" Ginny asked tentatively, finding the left-overs for dinner and heated them quickly with a charm.

"No," Hermione groaned, fighting the urge to cry. "The requests just keep piling in. Once I've gotten one potion out, three more requests come in. I don't know what to do anymore. My staff is working so hard, and I've barely even been out of the office for three days."

"They should hire someone extra; you can't go on like this. It's not healthy!"

"I can't force them to do anything. I've already given Harry permission to write an application for an extra position on behalf of me, but I doubt it'll work. They rarely ever give permission to such things; cause getting behind is usually the department's own fault."

Ginny nodded quietly, and then caught Harry standing in the doorway.

"Just eat," she urged, and watched as Hermione attacked the meal with vigour.

Molly sat down opposite Hermione, watching as the exhausted girl shuffled her food down. Ginny, stepped over to Harry and gave him a suffering look, just to arch her eyebrow as she got a grin in return.

"What are you so pleased about?" she asked in a hushed voice, but Harry put his finger over his lips and pulled her backwards into the living room.

"I called Zabini in a few days ago, and we got to an agreement," he told her in a whisper, watching her eyes grow big. "He's going to go talk to Draco, and hopefully that will make him think about returning to London. He left today, I just saw him off."

"You did that?! You fixed that?" she asked in awe. "You got that idea all on your own?"

"I dare say I did," he said proudly, and she flung her arms around his neck.

"You're a genius," she whispered, kissing him softly on the lips.

"Let's just hope it works."

----

Draco sat in the chair by the fireplace with a book on his lap, his entire demeanour frozen as he looked at the person stepping out from the sea of roaring green flames. He would hardly have recognised his former best friend in a crowd and it was definitely eerily surreal to have him stand in front of his chair looking down on him with an unreadable expression.

"You owe me money," Blaise said in his deep voice, an eyebrow arching perfectly on his forehead.

Draco looked at him wide-eyed, putting his book down with an almost mechanical movement.

"Excuse me?"

"You owe me money," Blaise repeated calmly, not moving from his spot.

"I certainly don't owe you a damn Galleon, Blaise."

"I beg to differ," his friend commented, and then to Draco's surprise his stony mask cracked to give way for a mischievous grin. "I seem to remember a certain prediction I gave that you absolutely refused and bet a total of twenty-seven Galleons, three Sickles and eleven Knuts that no such thing would ever occur. "

Comprehension dawned on Draco's face and he couldn't help but give a lopsided grin.

"Mate, that was in Fifth Year!"

"The bet had no time-limit. I specifically remember you saying that the odds of it 'ever, ever, _ever_ happening was as good as you and Potter shaking hands' at which you added 'which is never in a million light-years'."

"Fifth Year, Blaise. I couldn't possibly have foreseen –"

"I foresaw! I told you in _Fifth_ Year that one day you'd end up shagging Granger, and you did! Now fork over the Galleons."

Draco glared and leaned over to the mantel to get his bag of Wizarding money.

"Here," he said sourly as he gave Blaise the requested amount. "Now since you obviously just came to collect your prize, you may now leave."

Blaise rolled his eyes and ignored Draco's command, sitting down in the available arm chair instead.

"Charming place," he commented, blatantly ignoring the stormy grey eyes scowling at him from his left.

Draco didn't reply. He didn't know why, but he felt defensive. He felt like this was the end of the road for him and Blaise – the final confrontation he had hoped would never come.

"I never resented you."

"Liar," Draco said with a sad smile.

"Well, it's obvious that I did resent you when I tried to kill you, but it's been a long time since I realised if anyone had the right to feel betrayed and angry it was you. We were – _are_ – best friends and yet I didn't trust your judgement and I wouldn't listen. You may not believe me, but I forgave you a very long time ago."

"I wasn't aware forgiveness was a Slytherin thing," Draco commented dryly, trying to cover up how much the admission rattled him.

"It's not, but we were put into houses because we fit some of the characteristics not because we're supposed to _become_ the house stereotype. And even so; I've changed, Draco. What you did was right and I wish I saw that sooner."

An awkward silence settled over the two as they both sat deep in thought. He hadn't seen Blaise for years, and yet here he was – looking every bit as changed as he proclaimed to be. It was his best friend coming here to say everything was fine; that they were okay. Draco would have blushed if anyone knew what he felt at that moment.

He barely noticed Blaise standing up from the chair, but raised his head slowly and looked up into the drastically more mature features of his friend.

"Everyone that counts knows you did the right thing, Draco. Staying here and shutting out everyone in your life isn't doing anyone any good. She needs you."

Blaise held out a piece of parchment for him and he took it in confusion, seeing the Ministry seal at the very top of the scroll. His eyes flickered over it for mere moments and his brow furrowed as he took in the contents.

"Why are you giving me this? I don't get it, why do they need extra staff?"

"Everything was utter chaos when she returned. She's barely been out of her office and the entire Ministry is at its wit's end as none of them are getting the potions they need."

His face fell slightly, but it was just enough for Blaise to notice.

"Still, what does it have to do with me?"

"I seem to remember there was only one person who could match Granger in that class," he simply answered, gathering Floo powder in his palm and closed his fingers around the fine sand.

Draco sat in his chair looking lost, the parchment resting limply in his hand.

"Grow up, Draco. I have."

"You sure have. I never pegged you as Potter's errand boy."

Blaise rolled his eyes but gave a slight grin nonetheless before disappearing into the same flames he had come from, leaving Draco with a piece of parchment that could change his life.

----

"You did what?!"

Hermione stood rooted to the floor, her arms hanging limply by her side and her mouth open in a less than attractive pose. She was certain she had heard him wrong. Not even he could be that dense.

"I volunteered our department to lead the set up of the Ministry Charity Dance," he repeated, his hands locked behind his back as he peered out the enchanted window.

He hadn't looked at her since she came in, and she had done nothing _but_ stare at him since she entered. Had he gone completely barmy?

"You have got to be joking. Tell me this is your sick version of a prank," she squeaked, her voice high-pitched and on the verge of giving out.

"You have 4 days to set up decorations and make a speech to open the Dance. That should be plenty of time for you and our entire staff," he simply answered, tipping his weight onto the balls of his feet.

At that moment it felt like a vain in her head popped, like all the pressure suddenly gave in over her head and hit her square across her shoulders.

"_You_ volunteered us for more work, without consulting any of us?!" she cried, her eyes nearly popping out of her head. "What is wrong with you?! We're _drowning_ in work, still weeks and weeks behind on orders!"

"It's nothing you can't handle."

"Oh, I'm thrilled you have such faith in me, Mr. Merewood," she bit, her voice sharp as a knife through the air, "but we're not catching up. We're not functioning. I've been working around the clock for days on end, and so have everyone else but you. It's not working. We're not doing our job."

"I have already told the Minister we will do this to make up for all the trouble we've caused and I have assured him it is something we can handle."

He still hadn't looked at her once, just kept staring out that bloody enchanted window as if he was actually going to see something worthwhile in a magically programmed view. She fumed. The nerve he had. He hadn't done a single thing since she came back (or before she came back, for that matter) and now he was volunteering them for _more_ work on top of everything else she had to deal with.

She bit back all the foul nicknames she would enjoy more than _anything_ to throw at him right now and practically ran out of the office in a desperate hunt for some relief from the endless adding of responsibility. Adam tried to stop her on her way out, asking what was wrong, but she was on a mission. She would not take this any longer.

No one was able to stop her on her way to the top floor and she only slowed down when she reached the assistant's desk.

"I need to see the Minister momentarily," she exclaimed purposefully and was met by an incredulous look.

"The Minister is very busy, Mrs..."

"Miss Granger," she offered vacantly, before turning around. If she wasn't entirely mistaken, the Minister usually came back from his lunch appointments just about now.

"Miss Granger, you can't –"

Hermione ignored her as she saw the Minister right down the hall followed by his usual horde of guards and she set off towards him, ignoring the calls from his assistance and the warnings from his guards.

"Minister, may I please speak with you as soon as possible?" she asked, her face twisted in a nervous grimace, her mind mentally going over everything she had to do. "It's about the Ministry Dance."

This seemed to lessen the objections from their bystanders, and the Minister confirmed her request reluctantly, urging her to be quick as he led her into his office. When the guards made to follow, he turned towards them with his eyebrow raised.

"Miss Granger is a decorated war hero; I very much doubt she's going to overthrow the Ministry."

She smiled gratefully at this as he closed the door, and she bit her lip nervously as he rounded the desk sitting down to face her.

"Are you having any issues with the Dance, Miss Granger?"

To her own despair she felt hot tears once again gathering behind her eyelids. She had cried more this past week than she had in her entire life put together, exhaustion causing her to nearly fall apart.

"The department is a mess," she said honestly, letting her breath out as she fought the tears. "I returned from my vacation and next to nothing had been done in my absence. As you know we're incredibly behind on our deliveries to the other departments and we're not catching up. We've been working around the clock, but we're not covering enough ground during the time we have. And now Merewood just told me he had volunteered us to manage the Ministry Dance. I can't do it, Minister. I'm working more than I'm sleeping at the moment, and for the first time in my life I'm going to be brutally honest about a supervisor: Mr. Merewood is not doing _a single thing_ to get the department back on track."

«Could your staff confirm this piece of information?» he asked after an excruciating moment of silence.

She nodded jerkily, not knowing how she had ever ended up doing this. She would never have turned in a supervisor under normal circumstances. Despite everything he had done, it almost felt like betrayal.

«These are very serious accusations, Miss Granger,» he reminded her, only to recieve another nod. «Fortunately, there is a solution at hand.»

_**A/N II:**_ Thanks for your patience everyone. I really appreciate it!


	22. The Dance

**Disclaimer:** All these characters belong to JK Rowling, but I think they love me more.

**A/N:** HELLO! No, you're not halluscinating. It's really me. And yes, I am blushing from the embarrassment of the late update. But as I have promised several of you in Personal Messages, chapter 22 has been in the works and it's finally finished.

----

_Chapter 22 // The Dance_

She was home early that evening, finding the flat empty as she stepped out of the Floo. It was the first time she had returned from work before either Ginny or Harry, which was a strange feeling in its own. Finding the flat abandoned and eerily quiet was also rather disconcerting. She heard her own steps against the wooden floors as she moved towards the kitchen, turning the lights on as she went. She flopped exhaustedly down into the nearest chair, resting her head against her hand propped up on the kitchen table.

All week she had wanted nothing but some peace and quiet and now everything seemed much too silent. Her thoughts had free reign in her mind, quickly leaving thoughts of work and added responsibility to a place where she had been happy and content, living a life she could only dream of in her present situation. It was the one time in a week she had actually had quiet time that wasn't sleep, and she couldn't stand it.

Darting from the chair she started rummaging through the fridge, trying to figure out what to make for dinner instead of listening to the echo of Ginny's words._Miserable. Heartbroken. Homeless_. The words thudded in her head following the dull rhythm in sync with the knife cutting up vegetables on the chopping block.

"Hermione?"

She turned to find Ginny staring wide-eyed at her from the entrance to the kitchen. A slight smile flickered across her tired features at the sight of the familiar redhead.

"Someone finally had the decency to send you home?" Ginny commented dryly as she put her work-folder down on the kitchen table.

"I wish," Hermione muttered, pushing a curl back with the help of her wrist. "I gave myself the time off to digest everything."

"What happened?"

"The Minister sacked Merewood right in front of my eyes," she revealed and had to smile at Ginny's expression. "It felt disturbingly good. He finally got what he deserved after running our department into the ditch."

"Thank Merlin that beast finally got what was coming to him," Ginny said fiercely, stepping up next to her by the kitchen counter.

They worked side by side in silence for a few minutes, before Hermione suddenly put the knife down and turned towards her friend.

"I got his job."

"What?!"

Ginny turned around in a haste, ginger hair hitting Hermione across the face. She jumped back and cried an indignant 'hey', before her lips pulled up into an amused smile at the look on Ginny's features.

"I got his job. Gin, they gave me his job," she said breathlessly. "I'm the Head of the Potions department."

"Wha...Merlin's frigging baggy y-fronts, are you joking?!"

"No, he gave it to me on the spot," she confessed, rubbing her temple slightly. "I'm happy, I really am, but it's even more responsibility than before. I'm the one who has to get this department back on track now."

"You were already doing that, though, except now you have the power to actually do something about it all," Ginny argued, and then glared sternly at Hermione. "You're not yanking my wand, are you?"

"No, Gin, I'm not _yanking your wand_," Hermione said with an exasperated chuckle.

"Well, then who's getting your old job?"

"Apparently they already advertised a job at the department, and instead of the original assistant position the applicants will apply for my job."

"Hermione, this is absolutely amazing. You've finally gotten the promotion you've been working for all along," Ginny said with a grin. "Lose the troubled face, this is a good thing. It'll be easier to get everything back on track when you're the head of the department and you have actual power. And if the new person is completely useless, you can just fire his arse."

"I just wasn't prepared for this at all right now. Yes, I've been working for it, but I always imagined it would happen differently. I didn't think it'd happen in a time where I stopped loving my job or when I wished I was anywhere but there. I didn't think the first thing I had to do was bring the department back from the brink of catastrophe."

Ginny grabbed her by the shoulders and shook vigorously.

"Who cares that it came in a bad time? You didn't exactly meet Draco at a good time either, did you?" she asked, and Hermione had to acknowledge that she had a good point. "That good things happen when the timing is bad doesn't make them any less good."

"You're right,"Hermione acknowledged with a sigh.

"Of course I am, you git."

----

Hermione slipped the deep red dress robes over her head with slight difficulty. They were tight fitted and quite the hassle to get on, but once they were in place they looked more flattering than the ordinary work robes. And it _was_ an important occasion after all. She ran her hand down her front to flatten the creases and met her own gaze in the mirror. Her hair was pulled up in a simple bun, only a few curls escaping and her featured were enhanced with a few very light touches of make up. But even she could see that her eyes didn't hold any form of joy or excitement over the event. They were lifeless, just about as emotionally crippled as she felt.

She took a deep breath and pulled the corners of her mouth upwards. Her smile felt stiff and abnormal. She tried different techniques; one corner higher than the other, teeth barely showing, wide grin, mischievous smile, seductive pull of the corner. At last she relaxed her muscles and her mouth fell into it's natural position of her corners pointing slightly downwards. When did she forget how to smile? She thought it was like riding a bike; something you didn't just forget. Apparently she had been wrong, because every smile she attempted seemed fake and foreign on her face.

_Fuck it_._Maybe I can paint it on?_

She grabbed a long forgotten lip-liner from the stand and tried to draw the corner of her lips upwards. Then she fell into a hysterical fit of laughter as she met her reflection in the mirror. She looked like a mutated _clown_. She wheezed for air and clutched her sides just as Ginny popped her head through the opening in the door.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Hermione pulled herself together and turned towards Ginny whose eyebrows shot upwards as her mouth fell open. Her infectious laugh then rang out through the room as she shook her head.

"I tried to paint a smile on my face," Hermione explained, actually pulling a real smile at the absurdity.

"You, my dear, are a character," Ginny concluded and disappeared again.

Well, there really was no arguing that.

She carefully removed the rather creepy clown lines around her mouth and looked in the mirror once more. She didn't need to picture him or say his name to know he was on her mind. Perhaps it was even better if she didn't. Leaving the thoughts of him behind by the mirror, she hid her wand in a practical hemp on the inside of her dress robes and slipped out the door to meet Ginny and Harry downstairs.

"Ready?" Harry inquired softly, leaning casually against the fireplace.

"Suppose so. At least I didn't have to plan the thing," she said with a slight chuckle. "You're getting your dress robes dirty."

He reluctantly straightened up and she walked over to wipe the dust off his shoulder.

"Ron is leading the auction," he told her, watching as she doted on his robes.

"I heard," she said against his chest as she straightened the collar. "Though I don't see how that'd work. I can't imagine he can think fast enough."

"I told him the exact same thing!" Harry exclaimed. "_How are you supposed to be able to take all the bids and remember who bid the most? You can hardly remember your own birthday_, I told him today. He seemed confident, though."

"It'll be fine," she said and finally looked up and met his gaze.

He knew she wasn't talking about Ron.

"I know."

"Let's party like it's 1996 and we just won the Quidditch Cup," Ginny announced as she came down the stairs.

She Apparated out of the flat without waiting for an answer and the other two followed with a slight roll of their eyes.

The dance wasn't held at the Ministry, but rather at one of the magnificent halls of the British Museum of Magical History. It was a place Hermione always enjoyed, though she had a feeling this particular evening would be her least enjoyed visit. The building was still as beautiful as ever where it towered above them in its magnificent Second Empire style. Its creative design in stone had always taken her breath away, but tonight it couldn't make up for the horror she knew rested inside.

Harry had to literally drag her past the reporters, through the entrance and into the main hall where he took her cloak and handed it to a member of the staff nearby.

"Remember; it'll be fine," he whispered in her ear and smiled.

Suddenly she wished she had kept the clown smile on, because her muscles just wouldn't do what they were told. Oh, great leaping salamanders of flame, how she hated dances in any shape and form!

Harry and Ginny came up on either side of her and linked their arms with hers as they stepped up to the door. She felt overwhelmed with gratitude that they were on either side supporting her, almost like her own private castle with solid walls of protection and loyalty.

The doors swung open and they entered the hall already buzzing with people, decorated marvellously for the occasion. Merlin's Beard, was she happy she had gotten out of that job! Ginny held her arm tighter as they passed several occupied tables and found their own. Hermione took her seat and found herself utterly relieved at not having to rely on her legs to keep her upright any longer. She found Harry sitting on her left, and peeked at the placement card to her right._Ron Weasley_. Oh, unicorn turds! Would she ever get away from that man?

Just as she had processed the thought and added a groan, she heard said man's voice resonate through the hall.

"Welcome to the Annual Ministry Charity Dance, dear Ministry staff and...uh... vultures from the media."

Hermione quirked her eyebrow as several people snickered.

"I'm going to keep the talking at a minimum and proceed straight to the auction of the night. All your contribution goes to St.Mungo's and will be very helpful in research and the improvement of conditions for many patients."

Hermione followed the auctions with half a mind, while the other and more enthusiastic part lingered on a life she had loved and left. It seemed to take over her mind more and more, and she knew Draco's parting words had been spot on: She didn't only lie awake in bed wondering what could have been, she spent every waking moment of her life wondering what could have been.

The auction drew to an end, having sold everything from rare items to dinner dates with unfortunate single Ministry employees.

"Now may we all enjoy a delicious meal and some good old fashioned fun," Ron proclaimed to thunderous applause as he stepped off the podium.

"Who knew Ron had the memory to pull that off?" Harry said in slight puzzlement.

"He can do a lot of things if he actually wants to, he's just too lazy most of the time," Ginny replied. "And this occasion gave him an opportunity to wink at the ladies from his spot in the limelight, so he definitely put more in it."

Hermione laughed at this, knowing it was more than likely true, and grabbed her fork just as their meals appeared on the plates in front of them. Ron flopped down beside her with a large grin on his face, finding his meal waiting as well.

"How did I do?" he asked, beaming at them.

"Surprisingly well," Harry admitted with a nod.

"Absolutely not the disaster I expected."

Ron turned to Hermione with a hopeful expression after ignoring Ginny's statement. Oh, he expected her to praise him now? The food felt like it swelled in her mouth.

"Uh... Cyan is checking you out, so it must've gone exceptionally well," she said flippantly, pushing more food into her mouth hoping that'd let her off the hook.

Ginny snickered wildly, trying to hide her face from view. Ron himself turned to their right and did find Cyan staring openly at him. She blushed wildly and averted her gaze immediately. He blushed profusely too, and Hermione looked at him oddly. This was the player of the wizarding world? The man blushed when someone looked at him wrong! Or...right. Either way.

"Something the matter, Ron?" she asked sweetly, seeing Ginny grin madly out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh err. It's nothing... I've just seen Cyan around the hallways at work and..."

"I know you shagged her, you don't have to lie," Hermione said unaffectedly, shovelling more food into her mouth.

Ron looked like he'd been hit across the face.

"You're not going to fling a piece of meat into her wine and blind her, are you?" Ginny asked, making Hermione and Harry fall into a fit of laughter while Ron looked more confused than ever.

"Ron, don't worry. I'm not mad," she assured him, but left him looking pretty unconvinced.

The meal continued without a hitch and she noticed to her surprise that she was getting more and more comfortable around Ron. She couldn't always help throwing him the occasional toxic insult, but all in all the awkwardness was beginning to reside.

"... and then I _tripped_ over Rita Skeeter. As if that woman isn't bothering me enough as it is following me everywhere, now I actually fell over her, cut my lip and bled all over my date."

Hermione joined in on the roaring laughter, marvelling at the light mood around the table. She met Ginny's gaze and smiled. The redhead was about to return the smile when her face suddenly darkened and her eyes widened, making Hermione turn around in panic. _Oh Bugger_! Ron was standing next to her holding his hand out. What was he playing at? They were finally getting past the awkwardness and he's asking her to dance?!

She turned back towards Ginny in desperation and caught Harry making frantic motions with his hand to make Ron stop, but her ex-boyfriend didn't seem to take the hint. He just stood there with his hand out, looking at her intently.

"Ron, I don't think this is a good idea," she said earnestly, looking down at his hand and then back up.

"Please, Hermione. I just want to clear the air. There's a lot I haven't apologized for."

She looked around at the other two and gave a great sigh. How could she refuse such a request?

To Ginny's great desperation Hermione took the hand he offered her and rose from her seat. He grinned widely at her and lead her to the dance floor where several others were already moving to the music. She noticed to her chagrin that the music was far from upbeat, and knew that of all things to do this evening she was about to slow-dance with Ronald Weasley. If that wasn't a ridiculous thought, she didn't know what was.

He put his hand awkwardly on her waist and started leading her slowly in circles on the floor. At least he had become a better dancer – Merlin only knew how.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I really am. For everything I've caused you," he said in a hushed voice.

She nodded solemnly, taking in his words. She hadn't known how much she had waited for his apology – his _sincere_ apology.

"I think we both know our relationship wasn't working, but the way I ended things was completely and utterly disgusting. I wish I could re-do it, but I can't."

"I appreciate your apology very much," she admitted after a moment of silence. "And I want you to know that I've moved on and the load of crap that is currently my life is not made this way because of you any more."

He gave a short laugh at the statement.

"Good to know I'm not making your life hell."

"I want to try to be your friend, Ron, but you need to be patient with me."

"Patience isn't exactly a quality I'm known for, but I know I can't expect you to just accept everything right away. I want us to be friends and I'm willing to wait and take it slow."

She smiled up at him and for the first time in years she felt the bond they had shared at Hogwarts. As their relationship got complicated their friendship had completely drowned in matters of the heart. And now, for the first time in so long, he felt like the friend she had made while fighting the troll on Halloween during their first year. Tears formed in her eyes and she tried to blink them away rapidly. The thought of them at Hogwarts as the amazing friends they had been made her ache for all the years they wasted trying to make themselves something they weren't.

"Hermione?" he asked tentatively, watching her fight the tears. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," she said in a heavy voice. "I was just thinking about old times – about you and me and Harry at Hogwarts. And for the first time in ages I feel like we can get that back, you know, I -"

"Hermione!" someone suddenly hissed not too far away.

She turned to find Ginny gesturing madly, but she couldn't figure out why. What was going on? Ginny was looking more and more desperate now, and Hermione turned out of Ron's hold to find an image she never expected in a million years and that she had longed for so strongly it was almost ridiculous.

"Draco," she breathed, removing herself completely from Ron and scurried across the dance floor to where he stood between two tables, obviously having entered only moments earlier.

He stood there in his most formal dress robes with his hair as tamed as she knew he could get it and yet it still looked a bit unruly. Her face lit up in amazement, the smile she had tried so desperately to force by the mirror spread across her lips and reached her eyes until her entire being formerly beamed. It wasn't until she got closer that she noticed how tense his face seemed, how he was gripping the back of a nearby chair until his knuckles whitened.

She realised he hadn't been in a public setting in the Wizarding community for years, and now he was standing there with all eyes on him as excited whispers ran through the crowd. He had to be absolutely mortified. But there was something else in his eyes too, something that unnerved her.

"Draco," she repeated as she stopped in front of him. "Oh my god."

Tears shone in her eyes as she waited for him to reply and she tried to blink them away to not blur the image of his perfect presence.

"I can't believe you."

The tone in his voice hit her like a ton of bricks. Her breathing grew shallow and her eyes widened in horror.

"I can't believe I came here for you," he growled angrily, his face twisting into an angry grimace.

"Draco, what...?"

She was entirely confused. All she had said so far was 'Draco' and 'oh my god', there was no way she could have managed to insult him already.

"I come back here for _you_, after I finally realised I don't care about anything but being with you. And I come back to find you right in the arms of your old boyfriend. That's just brilliant, Granger, absolutely bloody brilliant. How long did it take you to get back in his bed? A week? A day? An hour?"

His words tore her apart and tears began to fall rapidly down her cheeks.

"We were just dancing, I... you don't understand! He just asked me to dance," she uttered, her voice thick with tears and desperation.

"Oh right, Hermione. Like you weren't waiting to get back to that pimple-faced weasel-turd of yours," he bit through clenched teeth.

"How can you say that?" she whispered, her voice pained and cracked. "You know it was over the moment we broke it off and you've been there every step of the way on my recovery. How can you think that about me?!"

"I just know what I'm seeing, and that's you in the arms of the wanker who cheated on you. I can't believe I threw away my perfect life in hiding for you."

He turned on his heel and strode towards the door, leaving her standing rooted to the spot with tears threatening to drown her. The moment the doors fell shut with a thud, she was awaken from her state and she realised that he was leaving. With a sob escaping her lips, she began running towards the door, pulling her dress robes up to not trip over them. She hurtled at full speed towards the door, threw it open and managed to drop her shoe in the process. Ignoring it, she ran out into the main hall past the shocked looking staff and out to the main gates. She reached the pavement and he was nowhere to be seen. Desperately hoping to catch up she started running down the street until she realised she didn't even know which way he went and besides, he had most likely Apparated right out of there.

Overcome with emotions she flopped down on the steps of nearby stairs and sobbed. She hid her face against her knees as her feet rested on the step below. How could he ever believe that about her? She knew it must've looked bad, but he should respect her enough to at least hear her out and not just accuse her of being a slut.

She looked down to find her foot bare and she threw her head back in frustration.

Was this some sort of sordid Cinderella parody?

Wiping her tears angrily, she got up from the steps and Apparated straight back to the flat where she immediately ran up to her room and hid far below the covers without even undressing.

Back at the Ministry dance people had just managed to calm after the display, and were once again dancing and talking amongst themselves. Harry picked up Hermione's shoe by the door and held it out to his girlfriend who looked at it miserably.

"I don't think this is how the fairytale is supposed to go," he said with a sad grimace.

Ginny grabbed her red hair and growled in frustration.

----

**A/N:** Oh man! You guys have no idea what a relief it is to finish this chapter! It's been in my head for so long, but I haven't been able to get it out.

And I just have to squee over this: I got **44** reviews for chapter 20 and **38** for chapter 21!! I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH. -group hugs-


	23. The Newbie

**Disclaimer:** I'm just borrowing, JK. Please don't sue me! -covers-

* * *

_Chapter 23 / The Newbie_

The ceiling in her borrowed bedroom was very white. It was almost blinding. She found a crack in it and tilted her head to the side. Her arms lay motionless by her side on top of the blanket, her deep red dress robe now wrinkled and dishevelled from the run and her restless turning under the covers. She had long since stopped being annoyed at the fact that her pillow was wet. It was no one's fault but her own, after all. 

A commotion outside her room made her blink, but she remained perfectly still, her head tilted to the side and her eyes locked on the crack in the ceiling. Her door then flung open and she finally rose her head slightly from her pillow finding Ron standing in the opening, his cheeks flushed and his sister hanging onto his arm with her nails digging into his flesh. 

"Leave her alone, you great big oaf!" Ginny shrieked, and Hermione realised she was clinging to his arm because she was trying to keep him back. "You've already ruined about 75 percent of her life so far, I won't let you any more. Get the fuck out of my flat and stay away!"

He ignored her completely and it was as if he didn't have a human being attached to his arm at all. 

"Hermione, what the bloody hell was that display back there?" he asked, his voice frighteningly calm. 

She didn't answer, she just let her head fall back against the pillow without a word. 

"You ran over to Malfoy like some love-sick puppy, and when he turns around to leave you run after him as if your life depended on it. What's going on?" he demanded, still ignoring Ginny's desperate tugs of his arm. "Answer me!"

"It's not your sodding business!" Ginny cried, and Hermione wondered why she wasn't pulling her wand and just hexing him to bits. 

"Did you run straight into his arms when we ended? Right into the arms of the man I've hated my entire life?" 

He didn't need a verbal answer. Her motionless body just laying there as she stared vacantly into the ceiling was answer enough. 

"I can't believe you," he spat, nearly shaking with fury now.

The words rang in her head, reverberating through her to hit that painful nerve. She heard the words over and over in Draco's voice with the same pained tone it had held earlier. When Ron was about to open his mouth again, she threw the covers aside with force and leaped from the bed immediately. 

"Will you shut up before you get us right back to square one after all the progress we made today?" she remarked in a stony cold voice. 

He snapped his mouth shut and Ginny put up a smug expression at Hermione's interruption of his tirade. 

"You have nothing to say on my personal life any more and it makes me downright pissed off that you have the nerve to come barging in here like you do," she continued, the volume of her voice growing louder. "You _cheated _on me! Stop pretending you have any say on who I love."

"Oh come off it, Hermione. I'm just trying to spare you the pain, there's no way it could work between you and Malfoy. You're much too different and he's a self-righteous arse."

"When is it going to sink in that you have nothing to say on the matter? It's my life. I've been seeing Draco for over 2 months and I think I know better than you if our relationship will work or not."

Ron made to retort, but ended up howling out in pain as Ginny had kicked him in the shin. 

"Give me back my wand, you wanker!" 

Hermione rolled her eyes when Ron swore loudly and tried to sooth his aching leg at the same time as he tried to fight off his little sister. 

"There's no way we can go back to being friends if you don't learn to keep out of the parts of my life you don't belong in any more."

"But I'm trying to be your friend right now. I'm trying to tell you you're making a mistake!"

"I need you to back off and let me live my life as I please. You really have some nerve talking about mistakes after all the shit you put me through," she bit, crossing her arms angrily over her chest. 

"_Stupefy_!"

Hermione's arms fell to her side as she looked up to find Ron frozen in place, his mouth open in an attempt to retort. She blinked in confusion before she saw Harry moving up behind Ron, a look of shock etched onto his face as he took in the scene in front of him. 

"I had my back turned when he Flooed in and he summoned my wand," Ginny explained, trying to figure out where he had hid it. 

Harry muttered 'Accio' under his breath and her wand came shooting out from Ron's belt. 

"Ew," she groaned, looking at her wand in Harry's hands with disgust. "I'm going to have to disinfect that thing now."

"He's such a git," Harry sighed as he returned her wand. "Why is he here making a scene? You'd think he'd learn to keep his yap shut."

"Just get him out of here," Hermione replied, her voice tired and hollow. "I'm not in the mood to answer his stupid questions and accusations about my ungodly sins with Draco."

"I swear that guy is the poster-kid for hypocrisy," Ginny complained, as she watched Harry trying to figure out what to do with his stunned partner. "How many girls has he gone out with in the past few months? And it's not like he's gone out with any decent girls either. At least you and Draco are serious, he just sleeps around and then gloats about it later."

"Were," Hermione corrected. "We _were_ serious."

"Don't give up just yet, love," Ginny replied, before turning to her boyfriend. "Can't we just carry him down the stairs and you can Floo him back to his flat?"

"We could just turn him back to normal," Harry said in a hesitant voice, but Ginny shook her head.

"He'll just refuse to leave and start bickering again."

"Yeah, I suppose. You take the other end and I'll try to...grab this end," Harry said, tipping Ron backwards by the shoulders. 

Ginny grabbed him by the legs she had previously kicked and lifted him from the floor, staggering a bit under the weight. 

"I'll walk backwards down the stairs and you guide me," her boyfriend suggested and started backing up towards the door. 

Hermione watched them with a quirked eyebrow, finding the image unfolding in front of her utterly surreal. Harry turned the corner by the door successfully and they managed to get him out the door. Seconds later Hermione heard a loud thud followed by swears and laughter. Peeking around the corner by the door, she found Ginny laughing uncontrollably while she tried to hold Ron up. 

"Harry bumped Ron's head on the banister," she wheezed out between guffaws of laughter. 

"We may have hurt him, Gin, it's not funny," Harry hissed between gritted teeth, checking Ron's head before he started walking backwards down the stairs again. 

"Not funny?! It's _hilarious_! And only about a tenth of the pain he deserves. Be glad I haven't kicked him in the bollocks yet."

"I obviously put you in the wrong end," he replied dryly.

Ginny just continued laughing until they successfully reached the living room floor below. With great effort they managed to up him back in an upright position. Harry stared at him in puzzlement for a few seconds before turning to Hermione who was standing on the stairs. 

"You don't happen to know if I can shrink him?"

She chuckled, almost surprised at the warm sound coming from her lips. 

"I wouldn't try a shrinking charm on a human if I were you, Harry," she commented. 

"I suppose not," he sighed, and with that grabbed Ron by the shoulders and heaved him towards the fireplace. 

Hermione watched, a smile playing her lips as she listened to Ginny laughing so hard she was about to puncture a lung. 

"I like him better this way," she joked half-heartedly, making Harry snort as he staggered into the Floo with the very life-like statue.

"I prefer when he can walk on his own."

They were engulfed in green flames and disappeared before Hermione's eyes, leaving the flat otherwise empty and quiet except for Ginny who was now trying to recover from her rather violent fit of laughter. 

Hermione felt the involuntary laughter escape her lips, breaking free from the barriers of grief that had seemed to keep all things positive locked inside. Miraculously, it seemed to lighten her mood and her spirits lifted marginally with every trill of her laugh. Before she knew it she was in hysteric fits, falling onto the couch with Ginny following close behind. They leaned onto each other and laughed until tears were streaming down their cheeks. It was the second time that night she cried, but this time it felt liberating. 

They eventually calmed and remained leaning against each other breathing heavily. 

"He is a git, but at least he managed to get you out of bed," Ginny finally commented, and instead of sitting up straight she pulled a hand around Hermione's shoulders and pulled her even closer. 

Hermione gave a sniff and a short laugh, knowing Ginny was perfectly right. He may be a lot of things and his intentions may have either selfish or selfless – or both, in a weird sort of way – but he did get her out of bed and he had caused a fit of gut wrecking laughter that seemed to clear out her entire system. 

Ginny bent down and fumbled underneath the table. 

"Here's your shoe."

"Oh right. Is this where you get down on one knee and slip it on my foot to see if it fits?" Hermione asked bitterly, grabbing the shoe forcefully from Ginny's hold. 

The redhead's hold tightened around her shoulders as she chuckled sadly at the remark. 

"As much as I'd love to be your Prince Charming, we might run into a few problems," she retorted with a badly disguised smile. "Firstly I lack a very important body part to fill that particular role. And even if I had that body part I would still be shagging Harry."

"Ew!" Hermione exclaimed, trying to wriggle out of the embrace, but failed miserably. 

"Oh, as if you and Draco haven't tried some deranged things in bed."

Hermione scowled at her, making her friend sigh. Reluctantly loosening her hold on Hermione, she pried the shoe from her grip and fell to the floor. Hermione's eyebrows shot up into her curls as she watched Ginny slip the shoe on her foot. 

"Since Draco isn't here to do it, I'm doing it for him," she declared. "Because he _will_ come around, and you _will_ get your fairytale ending, and there _will_ be sorbet at the bloody wedding!"

* * *

It was Monday, and the first day of her first full week as Head of the Potions Department at the Ministry of Magic in London, England. It was a position she had worked towards for a lengthy period of her life. She had climbed the ranks faster than even the most optimistic could've foreseen, and even though she had initially been disappointed at the circumstances in which her promotion had come about, she no longer let that put a damper on the feeling of accomplishment that filled her. 

She had deserved it, but it had come at a price. It was a price she wasn't sure she would want to pay if she had to make the choice over again. She often stood in the elevator as it took her down to the lower floors of the Ministry and envisioned that day she left Draco Malfoy standing behind almost in tears because of their broken relationship. Even on her best days she knew she wouldn't have made that decision again. Now that her work-life was back on track – even better than just back on track – she could rebuild the connection to the people in her life she considered family, she could find herself a new place to stay and sort her life out. But if she had the choice again, she wouldn't have done it all _now_. She would have waited until she and Draco were in a more secure place, after having discussed it and prepared for it. 

As she stood in the elevator again, the same thoughts were occupying her mind. This time they were hitting her with more force due to the drama at the Dance that weekend. She was trying to block out the look of pain on his face, the words accusing her of betrayal. She tried to replace the bad memories with happy ones, accompanied by Ginny's assurance that he would come around and that they would work it out – somehow. 

She was the only one left in the elevator as it stopped on her floor and she stepped out, walking down the hallway with determined steps, seeing the circular room appear before her eyes again at the end of it. She wasn't particularly early and she could see Miriam and Adam buzzing about the cauldrons as she neared. That was one thing she had always loved about working in the Potions department. Everyone loved what they did for a living, and none of them had a habit of slacking off. And now, as she was the one to lead the work, she was confident that they would be a very successfully run department. 

She had not plans to return to Merewood's way of running things around the place. First of all, she was going to actually make sure they did what they were supposed to do. Secondly, she had no intentions to just sit around on her arse watching people work. She was going to be right in there with them. She hadn't taken a job in Potions making to sit behind a desk filing papers all day. 

"G'morning." She smiled as she entered, turning both Miriam and Adam's attention towards her. 

"Morning, Chief!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. 

"Will you stop this Chief business?" she laughed. "I've known you guys for years as 'Hermione' and I'm perfectly content to stay that way."

"Oh, you've always been 'Chief'," Adam assured her. "We've just been waiting for the joyous day that you'd start your reign."

Hermione swatted him on the arm, rolling her eyes again but not quite disguising her smile. 

She left the two in the workroom and proceeded to her own office. Despite the fact that it was smaller than Merewood's old office, she much preferred this and had asked to keep it. She loved the oval shape, making it feel so much more open and inviting. It just felt more like hers. And she associated the other office with Merewood – which was definitely not a good thing these days. 

On her desk was a number of files, her calendar lay open and the curse detector lay on display at the front of her desk. It had begun as a painful reminder of what she had lost, but it had become more and more of a comfort for her on bad days. It was the only thing of Draco's she had close to her. Technically, she supposed it was hers, but somehow she thought of it as her only connection to Draco these days. 

She sat down and flicked through the files, picking what she saw as the most urgent requests, and headed back out into the workroom. More of her employees had shown up, as it was past 9, and she gave a loud whistle for their attention. 

"I want you 5 on the Auror order. Some of these potions can mean life or death in a tricky situation, and as much as my ex can annoy me, I don't particularly want him or any of his co-workers to die," she announced, making them all snigger. "The rest of you work on the order for the Department of Mysteries."

She had just delegated the work, watching her workers scatter, as someone gave a slight cough from the doorway. When she turned she was met with the sour face of the Minister's secretary – a woman she'd never been very fond of. 

"The Minister has appointed someone to fill your old position, Ms. Granger. I'm bringing him down to you and I'm assuming you can show him the ropes."

The secretary turned on her heels and left before Hermione had even formed a reply in her head, and the absence of the tall woman left a sight that made any coherent word in Hermione's mind disappear for good. She opened her mouth only to find that anything she might have wanted to say had fled, and she was left standing there with her tongue on display. 

He entered with a confident swagger – that she knew very well was forced – and stopped right in front of her, holding his hand out. 

"Draco Malfoy, your new employee," he said in a dull voice. 

She looked at it with a frown, knowing all of the others were watching them intently. Then, she looked up at him and pursed her lips together as she folded her arms over her chest. 

"Don't give me that shit, Draco," she declared loudly, and she heard unmistakable gasps. 

She thought she saw a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared and he shrugged. 

"I thought I would introduce myself, since I'm entering your life in a new role – your employee."

The implied rejection of the statement made her wince visibly, and she flushed in embarrassment of letting him see just how much it hurt her.

"Which is no one's fault but your own," she told him fiercely. "I'm not the one making assumptions left and right."

The workers' heads were now whipping between Hermione and Draco as they spoke. 

"I think it was a pretty fair assumption, considering the circumstances."

Heads whipped towards Draco. 

"You should know me better than that, you wanker!" She bellowed, holding back tears. 

Heads whipped towards Hermione, eyes widening. 

"I thought I knew you! Do you think I took this job for myself?" he said in a harsh voice. 

Back to Draco. 

"I know you sacrificed a lot and that you were disappointed at what you found, but you're disappointed over things that never took place!"

"I don't care any more," he muttered between clenched teeth. 

"Liar!" Miriam shrieked, and clamped her hands over her mouth as the other workers glared at her. 

Hermione just then realised just how public this argument was getting, and at the place they were both supposed to be working at no less. She swallowed heavily and placed her hand on his arm steering him towards his office. The contact made her body scream for more. This just wasn't right. 

Once they were safely inside Merewood's old office, she closed the door behind them as he walked slowly into the middle of the room. She remained standing by the door as he studied the office in silence, taking in every detail. He looked tired, she noticed. The dark rings under his eyes told her he lacked sleep. His hair was just as unruly as ever, but it looked duller in colour. She felt tears burn in her eyes, but she kept them back as she watched him in silence. Her eyes followed him as he walked around the desk and sat down behind it, rocking slightly back and forth on the chair. 

"I know it was difficult of you to leave everything safe behind to come here. You have no idea how happy I am you did, and you definitely don't know how happy I am you've taken this job. We really do need someone competent to help," she told him in a hushed voice, contrasting the argument out in the workroom. "I know so well that it scares you, Draco. And I know it took you a lot of courage to show up for that Dance and that you were probably scared shitless, but you can't take it out on me."

He was about to retort, but she held up her hand to keep him quiet. 

"No, Draco. You _know_ you're being irrational. You _know_ the only thing you saw was me dancing with Ron. And the only reason I danced with Ron was because he asked me to dance so he could apologize. You know that you overreacted because you were scared you'd made the wrong choice. So don't argue me on this and don't contradict me, cause you know you'd be lying."

He merely watched her for a second. 

"I'd like it if we could avoid more displays like that in the workroom," he said, his voice holding no emotion. "I'm new, and I shouldn't be giving such an unprofessional impression."

She gave a jerky nod, turning the doorknob with her back still turned to the door and slipped soundlessly back into the workroom.

**A/N:** Guys, I have sad news. This is the next to last chapter :( The story will definitely be finished after next chapter, and I'm almost dreading it! You guys are awesome. 61 reviews on the last chapter! I'm completely speechless!


	24. The Beginning

**Disclaimer:** I'm not genious enough to be the owner of Harry Potter. I say that with regret.

**A/N:** Exams are OVER. My summerjob has started (ew), I'm back home and I finally got to settle down to actually finish the very last chapter of Beneath Your Window. I decided to wait until I had time to do it properly, because I didn't want to just slap something down for the very last chapter of the fic I've been working on for the better part of a year.

It's been a good run, everyone! I hope you like the last part too. :)

* * *

_Chapter 24 / The Beginning_

It was lunchtime and the workroom outside was almost unnervingly quiet. The silence would have caught her off guard if it hadn't been for all the overtime she had worked lately. She was quite used to being on her own in the Department after hours, so a quiet lunchtime wasn't enough to make her uneasy. A stray curl fell onto her parchment as she dotted the_ i'_s in _Invigoration Draught_. She had been slouching further and further down onto her desk as the hours passed, mountains of paperwork only marginally decreasing as she worked.

A soft knock on her door prompted her to straighten up and run her hands over the creases in her work robe. The door slid open and the breath hitched in her throat when her blondest co-worker stepped inside in silence.

"Um..." she croaked, coughing desperately to control her faltering voice. "Aren't you out to lunch with the rest?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he retorted after taking a moment's pause.

"Yeah, well." She shrugged and gestured towards her paperwork, which was torturously slow in its decrease.

He gave a wry smile as he raised his left hand and drew the attention towards a yellow piece of parchment in his hand. At her desperate groan, he let out a small laugh – seemingly involuntarily, judging by the way his lips pursed into a tight line.

"Just put it wherever you want. It'll be in good company," she commented with a roll of her eyes.

Still keeping his lips pursed, perhaps to keep the laughter in this time, he dropped the parchment on top of a medium sized pile. As he was about to turn a way, his eye caught the curse detector in its designed spot on her desk. Her cheeks burned as she noticed his gaze lingering on the birthday gift, and she immediately looked away as he quickly averted his eyes from the offending item.

He took several quick steps towards the door, slipping between the door and the frame before he turned his head.

"You have some ink on your chin," he said quietly before he was gone from her office.

"Thanks," she breathed unnecessarily to the empty office.

It was only his second day on the job and he was already proving to be a valuable workforce – and a royal pain in the arse. Every logical thought had the nasty habit of fleeing her mind as he entered the room, leaving her flustered and desperate to keep herself occupied so he wouldn't speak to her. She tried to ignore him as much as possible, letting the other employees work like a buffer between them. Though maybe not intentionally, she had started retreating to her office more and more, handling the administrative side of things as he spent most of his time in the workroom overseeing the activity.

She missed the practical side of her job. The actual making of the potions had always been her favourite part – perhaps surprisingly, considering her love for books and studying, but during her internship the hours spent over the cauldron with Snape had felt like the reward for hours and hours on end spent behind a book.

So, yes, she wished she could spend more time in the workroom, but she knew there would be more time for that once things with her and Draco settled down a bit. It was uncomfortable now, but she was certain it would improve and she would be able to be in the same room as him without wanting to either a) fall into a cauldron and just die, b) bend him over the desk and have her wicked way with him or c) scream in frustration at his idiocy.

Muffled voices from the work room interrupted her musings and she realised her paperwork had progressed no further since the distraction and the lunch break now seemed to be coming to an end. She pulled out a copy of The Daily Prophet from beneath the parchment she had been writing on and circled an add for another flat. She had been to look at four already, and all of them had fallen through. She knew she was being picky, but she had to live there for a long time, so she wasn't about to just settle for anything. Sighing heavily, she rose from her desk, deciding that she would rather face Draco than to sit coped up behind the desk any longer, and left the copy of the Prophet lying on her desk.

Opening the door quietly, she found Harry giving Draco a rather warmer handshake than she would have imagined some months ago. He was grinning as Draco spoke words she couldn't decipher, and she tried to cover up the light feeling in her chest with a tightly knit frown.

"Hi, Harry," she said dryly, leaning her hip against a nearby workbench.

"You didn't tell me Draco came here to work!" he commented, but his pleased smile told her he didn't need much telling.

"You don't seem too surprised," she noted, quirking an eyebrow challengingly in his direction.

"Well, there were rumours, obviously," he dismissed.

Hermione noticed several pairs of eyes on them, and she scowled at them all in turn, sending them all hastily back to their tasks.

"I suppose there is," she said non-committally. "Anything in particular you need?"

He shook his head slightly as he put a small, white bag on a nearby table.

"Nothing in particular, really, I just came down to drop off this lunch for you. Ginny made me promise I'd drop it off personally to make sure you eat."

"Thanks," she smiled, knowing how worried Ginny always got that she skipped lunch. "She knows me well, that girl."

"Yeah, I bet you haven't had any breaks yet," he chastised.

"Well, neither has Draco!"

"Yeah, rat me out!" he complained from the cauldron he had turned to after greeting Harry.

Harry laughed, giving Hermione an encouraging look that she pointedly ignored.

"Look, I'll try to keep Ron away. I don't particularly want a repeat performance of the drama from a few nights ago."

"Thanks," she said genuinely, touching his shoulder briefly as he turned to leave with a slight wave.

"What drama?" Draco suddenly inquired as she stepped up to the only available cauldron – which happened to be right across from his.

"It's nothing."

"It doesn't sound like nothing," he said with a frown. "Potter even brought it up and said he'd keep him away. That's not nothing, that's a definite something."

"Of course it was _something_, it's just not a _something_ any more and it's not important," she huffed.

"If Potter is keeping him away from the department it's definitely important. Why won't you just tell me what the hell he's on about?"

"Because it's not any of your business, is it?" she replied in annoyance, chopping her ingredient violently.

"Oh, so that's how we're playing it? Just because we're no longer together, you're not going to tell me anything, even if it obviously has something to do with me too?"

She grit her teeth, refusing to look up at him.

"After the Dance Ron came to the flat to make a scene."

"What kind of scene?" he asked icily.

"About me running to you like a 'love-sick puppy'," she explained, raising her arms to make air quotes, "inquiring me if I ran straight the guy he's always hated after he and I broke up; telling me that you and I would never work out; and so on and so forth."

Draco didn't reply at that, he only kept stirring the potion, keeping his head down.

"Of course I told him to get lost and keep his nose out of stuff it doesn't belong in. He lost every say in those areas of my life the day he cheated on me."

Hermione didn't give Draco any time to respond as she let her potion simmer while she moved down the rows to check on other orders.

"The largest Auror order is wrapping up. Adam is bottling the last samples as we speak," Miriam told her when she stopped next to the cauldron that was cleaning itself merrily.

"That's fantastic," Hermione breathed, her shoulders relaxing almost visibly.

"Look," Miriam said in a hushed voice, leaning closer, "he's not giving you a hard time is he?"

Hermione glanced at Draco, who was bending over his cauldron, sprinkling an ingredient carefully into the mix with his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth. An involuntary smile tugged at her lips and she shook her head.

"No, he's just being Draco," she said softly.

When she finally managed to get control of her wandering gaze, she found Miriam looking thoughtfully at her.

"Why don't you reach out? Fix it, you know? You obviously want to."

"It's complicated."

Hermione handed her another order neatly written on a piece of parchment.

"It seems like you're making it more complicated than it needs to be," Miriam noted, inclining her head slightly.

Hermione met her gaze in silence not knowing what to say to something that was so undeniably true, but so hard to admit.

"Get started on that order for the Department of Mysteries, will you?"

Miriam gave a slightly amused 'yes, chief' and Hermione left her with a roll of her eyes, wondering if all Department Heads had to take love advice from their employees.

She returned to her cauldron opposite Draco, stealing glances at him when she was certain he was focused on his ingredients. He looked so different than that first day she'd seen him at the pub. While he had always looked healthy and happy in his little hidden sanctuary, there was a different aura about him now. His eyes didn't have that shadow of fright hidden beneath the mischievous twinkle. His smile wasn't as stiff. He didn't have the tone of apology when he introduced himself as Draco Malfoy – and he certainly didn't hide under a cover name. She knew she had changed – that he had changed her. He had healed her. He had taken her out of her routine life and created an entire new life for her that she quite enjoyed. But what she hadn't realised what that she had done the same to him. She had shaped him too.

She wondered how they would ever be able to let each other go when their new selves were shaped so heavily by the other. And why – if he was as scared of losing her as she was of losing him – was he pushing her away by making up things that never happened? Yes, he had taken the clichéd leap of faith and taken the job in her department, but the first thing he did when he came after her was to accuse her of something she would never even consider. She knew that he realised that deep down.

Anger wasn't a feeling she managed to conjure in this situation. There had to be something behind his quick, flawed judgement. Was he really that insecure about them and himself? Or was he simply scared? There had to be someth...

"Is your potion supposed to be the highly suspicious colour of neon orange?"

She yelped as she looked down into her cauldron and found a thick, bright orange goo bubbling dangerously. Groaning in irritation, she realised she hadn't paid attention at all to what she'd thrown in. She was about to lift it off the flame when she noticed the potion swelling rapidly. Her eyes growing wide, she lowered it down on the heat-proof surface of the workbench, and stepped away.

"Everyone get out. Now!" she bellowed, sending the work room into a frenzy.

Draco, who was in no way used to handling a situation like the present, stood frozen in place.

"Draco, get away!" she cried, watching the seemingly petrified man on the other side of the table from the swelling potion.

He wasn't going to move. She realised that quickly, and started to panic. Giving the potion a weary look, she noticed the cauldron starting to rattle. An image of how bad it could be ran through her head. The potion could have disastrous effects – she had no idea what she'd put in it. How could she have been so careless? The image her mind conjured made her dive underneath the workbench and slide across the floor towards the other end. She grabbed a hold of his legs and pulled him down, dragging him in under the bench with a murderous look on her face.

"What are you _thinking_?! Why didn't you move?!"

He just blinked, his mouth moving without releasing sound. She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her.

"When I say move... youMOVE! Preferably very far away!" she screeched, making him flinch. "That's the only emergency rule there is, it really is that simple. Honestly, who knows..."

She was interrupted by a deafening sound and the table rattling around them. Instinctively, she bent over, trying to shield herself. She felt something hovering over her and when the crashes subsided she straightened up only find herself leaning against Draco.

"I'm sorry," he said in a shaky voice.

"No, I'm sorry. I completely forgot to go through the safety instructions with you, so there was no way you could have been prepared for a situation like this."

She released herself from his protective grip and climbed out from underneath the table, being careful not to touch any spilled potion.

"It seems like the others made it to the emergency apparition point," she noted, finding the workroom empty and slightly chaotic.

"Either that or your potion makes people disappear," he commented, ducking as she tried to swat him over the head.

"Don't joke about that!"

"Where are you going?" he asked as she made her way through the maze of orange goo.

"We need to do a head count before we can clean this mess up. To make sure no one has ... disappeared," she said with a dark look his way. "It's part of the safety procedure I've neglected to inform you about.

"Merlin, this means more paperwork. Don't touch any potion!"

She stopped before the emergency apparition point, hesitating slightly.

"What's wrong?" he inquired quietly, watching her bite her lip.

"I don't know, really. I'm just dreading the reactions, I suppose."

"You can't say this never happens. It's a potions lab."

"No, it happens all the time," she answered with a nod. "I've just never been the cause of it."

She swallowed and stepped onto the point, turning around, knowing it would bring her to the room where the others were waiting. Seconds later the room materialized in front of her, her co-workers talking loudly amongst themselves. It was a common occurrence, but it shook them all every time. It reminded them that the job they were doing was by no means safe, even if they took every precaution.

The room grew quiet when they noticed her, and she was about to move out of the circle when she was pushed forward, landing flat on her face.

"Draco, you useless tosser!" she cried, stumbling to her feet. "Give me a second to get out of the way!"

He laughed in delight and reached out his hand to pull her up to her full height.

"Thank Merlin you two are alright," Miriam breathed. "We thought something had happened since you didn't follow."

"We were too far away from the apparition point, so we took refuge in the room," Hermione explained quickly, taking in the appearance of her rattled workers. "Everyone, take the rest of the day off. I need to call security and assess the damage, and then finish up the order I messed up."

"We'll stay behind ..."

"No, too many people down there will just be chaos. It's a mess," she sighed. "And it's my fault, so I'd like to just fix this and get on with it."

They all nodded and resigned.

"Everyone is alright?" she asked, looking over the crowd. "No one missing any limbs? No one missing in general?"

"We're all here, Chief. And no one was hit by the potion."

"Excellent. Now go home," she ordered, pushing them out the door one by one. "You too, Draco."

"Damn, I thought I'd hidden perfectly."

"I'm afraid you're a bit taller than that chair," she answered dryly.

"I'm staying behind."

"No, you're not. It will be more effective if I get to work in peace."

"I don't care what you say, we both know you wouldn't have made such a careless mistake if I hadn't been there," he told her, holding her gaze. "So it's just as much my fault as it is yours."

"You think too highly of yourself," she said darkly, crossing her hands over her chest.

"Maybe, but you know I'm right," he retorted, pushing her towards the apparition point again. "Besides, I may not know much about the safety procedures, but I do know that I have a responsibility to be there as Potions Master."

Damn it. She had counted on him not to know that.

"We'll have to work overtime," she told him, hoping to change his mind.

"Do I look like I have much waiting for me after work? Heck, I sleep in my office!"

She looked at him in surprise, but he pushed her into the apparition point and the image of him dissolved, being replaced by the chaotic workroom. Remembering what happened last time, she moved away from the point just in time to avoid being sent spiralling to the floor.

A crew from security was already in place, hunched to the floor to test the potion and its effects.

"Quite a mess this time," one of them commented. "And it seems to be an unknown potion."

"I'm very sorry. I don't know where my head was," she apologized quietly, avoiding Draco's gaze.

"No need to apologize. This happens with potions, and this is our job," he told her. "We're testing its effects, but so far it doesn't seem dangerous. We don't know how it reacts to magic yet, but if nothing happens we can remove it magically and all should be fine."

She nodded and thanked them gratefully, still feeling guilty despite his demand to not worry.

"You two should retreat to an office while we test it. Since it's not a standard potion we have no idea what it will do in fusion with magic."

Hermione nodded again and let herself be lead off by Draco, guilt weighing her down. She stepped inside his office without protest, letting him guide her with a hand to the small of her back. He opened the blinds on the windows into the workroom, and Hermione remained standing by it, her arms folded protectively over her chest.

"I can't believe I was so careless," she whispered, watching the crew work as she bit her lip in frustration. "It's my job to be in charge and to keep these things from happening, not to make them happen."

"What were you thinking about while you were working on it?" he asked from his spot beside her.

She looked at him out of the corner for her eyes.

"I wasn't thinking about anything in particular."

"Hermione, we both know that's a lie. You don't even remember what you put in it, your mind had to have been somewhere else entirely."

She looked down, studying the points of her shoes.

"I was thinking about how you and I have shaped each other so much and how any of us can ever live our lives normally without the other any more," she told him honestly, not looking his way at all. "And I thought about you and why you're doing this. I know you know me. I know you know I could never in a million years go back to Ron after all that happened and I know you realise I love you more than I've ever been able to tell you. So no, the potion wasn't the most important thing on my mind at the moment, and I shouldn't have worked on it when I knew I was much too unfocused."

He didn't give an answer and she didn't look for one. They watched the crew work outside as they remained silent and almost unaware of the other. Finally, a member of the crew waved them out again, and she left him standing in the office, watching her talk to the security workers.

"It reacted just fine in fusion with magic, it was removed successfully and the room is cleared," one of them told her as she came up to them, and she beamed in response.

"That's fantastic, thank you so much."

"Be careful when you remake it," he remarked with a small smile, as they began packing up to leave.

Hermione surveyed the scene, hoping most things could be salvaged. Not much seemed to have been ruined, considering the explosion hadn't been that forceful. Luckily, she found the order they had finished and bottled pretty much intact. Only three vials had broken, and that would be quick to remake before she went home.

She began tidying up the room, picking up things that had fallen out of place, and found the cauldron unlucky enough to have been home to her potion of disaster. As she cleaned the cauldron, she heard Draco shuffling around behind her, picking up stray items.

They worked in complete silence, dusting and cleaning with a bit help from magic, and it was in order quicker than she had anticipated. Much thanks to Draco, she realised.

"Thanks for your help," she said quietly, as she dusted her hands on her workrobe. "You can go, I'll just remake the potion and I'll be done."

"I live here, remember?" he reminded her with a crooked smile. "I'll replace the vials that were broken from the completed order."

She gave in, and let him take the cauldron opposite her yet again.

"This doesn't bode well," she said with a raised eyebrow, and he chuckled in response.

"I won't distract you," he promised with a crooked smile.

"I'm sorry, you do that just by showing up."

She began chopping up her ingredients to put them up in measured piles in order of usage in the potion, to make sure she at least put in the right ingredients, in the right measures and in the right order this time around. If she was lucky maybe she'd manage to stir it right too, and the potion would come out okay.

"So we're going to have an accident like this every week?"

"Yeah, you might as well just start wearing a protective bubble on a daily basis."

She smiled quickly at him over the cauldron, before she turned to inspect her neat piles of ingredients.

"I don't know why I'm doing ..._this_," he suddenly said, not looking up as he added the first ingredient to his potion.

Looking at him for a second, she gave a slight nod in acknowledgement, knowing he wasn't referring to the potion.

"I guess I ... I think I blame you for leaving. And for just giving up on me."

Her eyebrows knit tightly into a frown.

"Is that what you think I did?" she asked, her voice betraying some of the hurt she felt. "Draco, I would never give up on you."

"You were going to leave without saying goodbye. You weren't even going to ask me to come. You had already decided that I wouldn't go."

"I was going to leave before you came home because I couldn't bare the thought of _having_ to say goodbye. If I just left, I could've pretended that it wasn't goodbye. I didn't ask you because I didn't want to put you on the spot," she explained stirring slowly clockwise. "We'd already discussed it several times and you explicitly said you couldn't deal with going back to London. I didn't want to pressure you into doing something that I know is so hard for you."

He just looked at her, his face set in a grave expression with his lips pursed together in thought.

"I just... I thought it was best, you know?" She shrugged. "To try to get out before you came back, so we didn't have to say goodbye and didn't have to argue about who is more of a coward than the other."

"I said a lot of horrible things to you," he admitted.

"We both did."

She dusted the dirt from some of the ingredients off of her hands, and started to bottle the potion which was now shimmering green – the colour it was supposed to be as opposed to bright orange.

"I thought you'd just given up on me and when I came back you were dancing with him... I just didn't know how to keep the thoughts back. And everything went to the hippogriffs."

He tilted his head back in exasperation, bowing his head back down again, refusing to meet her gaze.

She cleaned the empty cauldron and set the bottled potion aside. Soundlessly, she left him standing by the workbench as she retreated to her office to grab her cloak and the Prophet with the circled ad for the flat. When she returned, he was bending over his cauldron, peering into it as if it was a pensive that could tell him where they went wrong.

"I'm sorry I ruined everything," he croaked as she came closer.

He watched her wrap her cloak around her shoulders and put the edition of the Prophet in the pocket on the inside of it with eyes glistening from tears he hadn't shed since the day she left his house.

She couldn't take it. He stood there, fighting back tears, his hair dishevelled and the light in his eyes gone. He was her ex-boyfriend. Her ex-love. She closed the distance between them and cradled his face in her hands. Everything about him was so indescribably close. He was every bit as present as she'd longed for ever since they parted. His mild eyes looked down on her and he leaned towards the touch of her right hand, making her heart ache. Slowly, she pressed her lips to his, instantly feeling the familiar rush of emotions, the overwhelming impressions from her senses.

Before he really knew what had happened she pulled away, taking a few steps backwards.

"I'm sorry I ruined everything too," she said, her heart thudding uncomfortably in her chest.

She turned on her heel and walked down the hallway, trying to forget the hurt in his eyes.

* * *

"Hermione Granger, " she said to the significantly taller lady, offering her hand. "I called about the flat earlier."

A smile broke out on the stranger's face, softening her features immediately.

"Nice to meet you! Would you like to come on in and have a look?"

Hermione nodded with a forced smile, all cheerfulness she should have felt had left when she walked away from the work room some hours ago. She followed the other inside, taking in the light and roomy flat that revealed itself as she proceeded.

"We have had some interest, but it's not very conveniently placed for most people. So they have found it a bit pricey, but it's a very roomy and elegant home, and it would have been worth even more than this if it was a bit more strategically placed."

She listened to the lady talk about the flat as she looked around, imagining where to put her rare potions ingredients, her books and her telly. It was almost frighteningly close to what she had imagined. The building itself had been marvellous as she stood out on the street, leaning her head back. Several stories tall in white stone, towering above the ground, looking older and far more distinguished than the rest of the neighbourhood. The inside was better than she could have hoped. Light, roomy, not much in need of fixing. The kitchen was big enough for her, and if she ever had someone to share it with, it was still comfortable. It had one bedroom for her and a spare one she could use for visitors.

There was no way she could pass this opportunity up. She couldn't live at Harry and Ginny's for ever, even if Ginny didn't miss a chance to tell her how much she'd miss her when she left. You'd think she was moving to Greenland, not to another part of town.

"The bedroom is down the hall."

Hermione followed the instructions, peeking into the bathroom on her way, finding a modern and tiled room, rather more spacious than she had expected. She continued down the hallway to the bedroom and smiled to herself as she entered. The daylight coming in through the large windows made the room look large and inviting. She stepped further inside, turning around as she looked around in wonder. It was everything she had looked for and more.

"I absolutely love it," she said when the owner came after her into the room. "I can't pass this up."

"If you want it, it's yours. Like I said earlier, the others I've had over couldn't live with the location, and decided to go for other alternatives. All I need is some references and to draw up a contract," the owner told her, watching as Hermione kept glancing around the room. "I can go get a list of what I need from you, and we'll discuss it further in a minute."

Hermione was left to herself and she sat down on the king size bed, bouncing on the mattress a little. She smiled, feeling so entirely relieved that she had finally sorted out her living situation. Things were getting sorted out nicely. Work was settling in and they were finally catching up. What had looked impossible only mere days ago, was now almost accomplished. She were about to find herself a new place to stay and she was no longer bound to the hospitality of her best friends. Her friendship with Ron was back in a fragile, bumpy sort of way.

The only thing that was truly bothering her was Draco. It had reached a conclusion, but not quite the one she wanted. In both apologies lay an undertone of finality. None of them knew how to get to where the other was standing. It was like fumbling around in a dark forest, knowing that the other was out there, but having no idea where. She knew that this was the point where it floated or it sunk, and she felt like they had said goodbye earlier – both of them finding the search for the other much too difficult.

Maybe this had been his role in her life, and now he had played his part. She had gotten to know him – really know him - in a time of her life when she was broken to the inch of her being. It was like he had rebuilt her. She fixed her gaze out the window without really looking at anything in particular. It was hard to accept that he might be gone from her life as something more than a friend.

She jumped in fright as five long fingers tapped on the window, the sharp sound reverberating through the room. A high-pitched squeal came from her lips as she jumped up and backed away from the window as she watched the palm of the hand push flat against the glass. She was on the 5th floor, what the heck was that?

Her fingers tightened around her wand as she crept towards the window, the hand once again tapping against the glass, sending her heart into a frenzy of anxious thudding. She flung the window open and pulled her wand out immediately as a loud yelp sounded from down below. Her eyes momentarily fixed on the street far down, and she shook her head to clear the feeling of dizziness from her mind.

"Nice weather."

She jumped in surprise yet again, her eyes leaving the pavement below and registered the odd sight of someone clinging to the white stone wall of the building. Her mouth fell open and her wand lowered slowly.

"So, are you taking the place?"

"Draco, what the hell are you doing?!" she finally yelled, making him grin sheepishly up at her. "You could fall to your very disgusting and splattered death!"

"Oh, I will have you know I cast a very competent sticking charm to my shoes," he replied lightly, his eyes twinkling merrily.

Her eyes narrowed, of course realising this was a mirror of her own words.

"I repeat: what the hell are you doing?"

"I saw the ad circled in your paper earlier. And after you left I realised some things, and I couldn't just sit around that empty office any more."

"There's a _door_," she remarked in exasperation, watching him sprawled up against the wall looking oddly casual.

Only Draco Malfoy could look suave sprawled against a wall on the 5th floor of a stone building.

"Where's the fun in that?" he asked. "If I remember correctly, this is exactly the way our relationship began – just with the roles reversed. Some girls would even call this gesture romantic."

"Oh yes, horribly romantic watching you fall to your death."

Despite her reply laced in sarcasm, her inner teenager was jumping up and down and dancing around in circles.

"I'm not going to die tonight, I have much bigger plans," he grinned, quite enjoying how much he had managed to rattle her.

"I assume you're here to share them with me."

She put her wand down and hoisted herself up into the window sill, looking at him with a fake uninterested expression. Of course, she was anything _but_ uninterested.

"Yeah, see," he began, stopping for an artistic pause making her roll her eyes down at him. "I'm getting married."

Her heart plummeted to floor of what was to become her new flat. How could he? Her rather murderous thoughts involving the untimely death of Draco's fiancé were interrupted by his hearty laugh.

"Do you think I'd climb a large stone building to tell you I'm marrying someone else?" he chuckled as he watched her gutted expression. It warmed his heart that she handled the thought of him with someone else so badly.

"I wouldn't put it past you," she muttered, glaring in his direction.

"I'm disappointed that you think so lowly of your husband to be," he smirked, feeling endlessly amused as he watched her expression change.

Holy fuck, she was so stupid! She looked down on him and his infuriating (delectable) smirk and she shook her head in disbelief.

"But... just hours ago you thought I was back with Ron," she remarked, her mind reeling.

"I know, I'm a bloody git," he groaned. "I've just been sitting in my office for about 3 hours straight wondering what good reason I can possibly have to give you up for something so trivial as you dancing with your ex and trying to leave without saying goodbye. I realised that those things don't have to matter in the grand scheme of things."

She beamed at him, her mind finally beginning to realise what was actually happening.

"Plus Blaise showed up to hit me upside the head," he admitted, moving his hand up to rub the back of his head.

"Don't let go of the wall!" Hermione screeched, bending down to grab his other arm to keep him steady. "Will you come inside before I become a widow in record time?"

She jumped down from the sill and watched in silence as he lifted himself up into the window and pushed himself forwards by gripping the sill. Her face felt stiff and she realised she was still grinning madly, and her heart began leaping in her chest as he landed on the floor with a thump.

"I can't believe you changed your mind," she said in a hushed voice, blinking back tears that were forming in her eyes.

"I can't believe I didn't change my mind sooner," he remarked. "In all honesty, I was bound to regain my mind at some point. I was pretty much screwed from the moment you kissed me again."

"I swear I never meant to give up on you."

Her voice was thick with unshed tears and he stepped up to her with a sad smile.

"I know. I was just hurt and paranoid and freaked out about having to leave my safe haven and return to the world I never thought I'd go back to. I think I tried to punish you for making me return, and I know that's unforgivable. If you don't want me back, I completely understand."

She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and hit him across the chest with her palm.

"Ow!" he cried indignantly. "Stop it!"

"You are such an idiot," she told him. "You know that there's nothing I want more than to have you back."

His lips pulled into a large smile and he wrapped his hands around her, pulling her close.

"I can't believe we've been such nitwits," she muttered against his shoulder.

He laughed, and she felt the sound vibrate from his body.

"We really are too stubborn for our own good."

He pulled her back a bit and cradled her face with his hands.

"But from now on we'll listen to each other and compromise. We'll live in this flat most of the year and we'll keep my house up north so we can go there when we get time off from work."

She beamed at that, circling her arms around his waist.

"That's the best idea you've ever had."

"I think I've had many brilliant ideas," he retorted, capturing her lips for a fleeting second.

Her lips tingled from the touch, and she could hardly believe it was actually happening.

"Upside-down sex not being one of them," she smirked, laughing when he glared down at her.

"It was a brilliant idea!"

"Oh come on, it was completely impractical!"

"Impractical? Where's your sense of adventure, of excitement? Have you no fun-streak? Where's the originali--"

"Draco, shut up."

"Is that the way you're going to talk to our children? My, I'm appalled."

"The children will understand my need to shut your mouth for a second or two."

"My very delectable, skilled mouth is not made to be shut."

"Oh, Merlin..."

* * *

_Dear Freckles and Sorbet,_

_You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of _

_Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy on Saturday, May 19__th_

_at the Lakeside Inn. _

_Ps: There will be ice cream. _

* * *

**A/N: **It's over! I can hardly believe it's actually over. :(

Thanks to all of you who have been such faithful and patient readers for almost a year now. I've had great fun writing this piece of fiction and getting your input along the way.

I don't have time right now to name everyone who've been awesome throughout this, but I need everyone to know that I really appreciate it.

There will be more Dramione from me, I promise. There'll be no sequel to this, cause I feel like I've told their story and I've kind of gotten it out of my system, so I'm moving onto a new piece of Dramione that I've titled _Learning to Breathe_. So watch out for that in the not so distant future.


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